Terms of Employment
by Dranius
Summary: Several years after the war, the world is struggling to get back on its' feet. Ginny Weasley can't keep a steady job. Draco Malfoy has one to offer. Sworn enemies must find hope in each other and face the consequences of a war they served to end.
1. Chapter 1 : Walking with the Dead

**Disclaimer: The author of this fan fiction does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the original characters of the Harry Potter series belong to their original creator J.K.R.**

**Author's Notice: **This is me, finally accepting the books five six and seven…. But not the epilogue. Please forget the epilogue. And the movie epilogue. (A balding Draco. Way to destroy a girls' dream. )

_First of all, I'd like to thank by Beta, Jedi Tess of Gryffindor, for her help and work. Thank you!_

Heartless

_By: Dranius_

_Chapter 1 : Walking with the Dead_

"Malfoy, if you set off a trap with all that chewing, I swear I'll kill you," hissed a voice in his ear. Draco kept masticating on the piece of dried meat with gusto, taking a few gulps of water to ease to process of softening the food.

The young man didn't even bother to feign surprise. Instead, he raised a finger, and pointed at Chancey who was busy poking at the security nexus with the tip of his wand. "I beg you, please don't worry about me_, __h_e will most likely manage to kill us all before I'm done with my meal…" he drawled.

Their squad leader swore profusely, and proceeded to tackle the trainee, snatching the wand from his fingers and proceeding to swat his nose with it sharply and repeatedly, punctuation each of his words with a tap. "I said, don't touch the goddamn nexus!"

Draco turned his attention away from the squabbling leader and apprentice, allowing his eyes to wander over their makeshift camp. As usual, the ambient grubbiness got to him. He found himself wondering why he put up with it. Malfoys are creatures of silk and three course meals, _not_ of mud and grime. Then, he remembered why he was standing there, fearing both mosquitoes, and an especially nefarious onslaught of homicidal magic. Draco had to hold back a growl.

The handsome blond remembered those events clearly, as if they had happened only the previous day and not a few years ago. Voldemort's last day, his and Potter's showdown and of course, Scarhead's impossible victory. A mad debacle for freedom had ensued on the Death Eaters' side.

Not ones to stick around after their Lord and Master had been utterly defeated by a seventeen year old boy with the stature of a starved twig, they had fled to the safest Death Eater-friendly territory they could think of: Malfoy Manor.

What they had not known at the time was that the Malfoy allegiance had changed in the last half hour. In fact, Draco couldn't help but wince, remembering he had been the cause of his mother's betrayal to their Lord, hiding Potter's death from him in exchange of her familys' safety.

The old magics that tied the Malfoys' lands to their blood instantly registered the change of loyalty. To it, Death Eaters were now enemies. Bloodlore lay strong between Malfoys and their land.

Thus, the Malfoy estate took it upon itself to get rid of what were now considered dangerous and unwanted guests. Upon seeing the drapes and carpets trying to eviscerate their close friends, and already inhabited with a strong sense of paranoia and desperation, the Death Eaters retaliated. Only the dumbest were too slow to realize the Malfoys had turned against them and their Lord. Those were the first to die.

Out of spite and greed, those left decided to rob the Manor. The few who survived that near impossible feat managed to take with them many artifacts, all of them worth a fortune, being most powerful objects of more or less dark nature and thus of great importance to the Malfoy name.

Under those circumstances, Draco had taken it upon himself to track down his stolen belongings. The Ministry was too busy hating the Malfoy name to be of any help. He had gathered a small hit team, hiring people away from Gringotts' curse breaking teams and other reliable sources, and took off on the trail of the remaining Death Eaters along with the Aurors. Needles to say coexistence was not always easy, but it was through mutual hatred that came an understanding: one needed the other to survive better.

Draco's team used to be of five people, but now only counted four.

Sammeth was the self-proclaimed leader of the group: the one with most experience and an accomplished Curse Breaker. He was in his 40s, tall and lanky, and he had graying hair with a constant three day beard. His blue eyes were the sharpest Draco had ever seen; but they were nowhere as sharp or agile as his mind. For some reason, the man insisted in bringing along his Apprentice wherever he went.

Fresh out of Durmstrang, Roy 'Chancey' Frederosky was a meager boy of 18 year of age. Incredibly clumsy and way too curious; his raw talent made up for his lack of prudence. Also, the boy was the luckiest person the youngest Malfoy had ever met. If it was not for his insolent and seemingly never ending strike of luck, he'd have been six feet under long ago.

The third member of their team was most commonly referred to as a Scout in the curse breaker professional jargon. At the age of twenty-nine, the tall woman was their trap specialist. Always harboring her dreadlocked black hair in the most outrageous style, Ashtoreth kept them safe by being three steps ahead of them. She kept their backs, making sure nothing unexpected would ever come snapping at them.

Last came the Malfoy himself. He was their Dark Arts specialist. Some of the magics bound to the artifacts they were hunting were of the most tainted nature, but also, the Death Eaters who'd planted them were not the kind of people to use tickling hexes to guard their valuables.

As well as a Dark Arts know-it-all, he was also their official Blood Mage: a line of work limited to pure-blooded wizards of ancient magical lineage. This trade was often frowned upon as it consisted mainly in manipulating the older magics: those better left dormant. It was dangerous to call unto Bloodlore, but when going against those to whom purity of blood mattered most, a Blood Mage was a vital key to survival. It had been one of the reasons the Weasleys and other members of old families had been so precious to the Order of the Phoenix: only old blood bound to strong magic could break through certain wards.

Draco's eyes lingered for a short moment over the black body bag he knew contained a corpse and chose to interrupt Sammeth's and Chancey's squabbling. "Don't you think we should take her back to her parents, maybe her husband?" he asked.

Ash raised her eyes from her cooking, crouched over by the fire. "Her parents died during the war," she said, tilting her head and flipping a few bejeweled dreadlocks over her shoulder. "No one to send her to. Never got married, not even a boyfriend."

"She never really talked about her personal life. I don't think she had anyone either," said Sammeth, casting the bag a somewhat regretful glance.

Draco pushed away the pity that was making his stomach churn. The pity, and the guilt. "I don't think it would be a wise idea to push any further for now. Without a Hex to protect us, we'd be in deep trouble if an emergency occurred. What do you think?" he asked, mercury eyes locking with the curse breaker's sky blue.

"I believe we all need a few days off. Let's spend tomorrow setting up wards around this place so no one will stumble on something dangerous while we're gone. I'm sure you can arrange a descent funeral for Tammy. One we can all attend to. And while we're back to civilization, we can hire a new Hex."

"I'll write a letter now to set things up." agreed Draco, standing and walking towards his tent. "I'll also make arrangements for a portkey back to London tomorrow evening."

The team settled back down when Draco entered his tent, sharing small smiles before getting back to their business. Even after a war, death still cut pretty deep.

Ash rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "That guy is _so_ old." she complained, handing to Chancey and Sammeth a bowl of what looked suspiciously like rat stew.

"You're one to speak," mocked Chancey, "How old are you, fifty?" He easily avoided a kick the woman aimed at his leg before sitting down around the fire to eat with his friends. The dark woman pouted playfully. "You know what I mean," muttered the American witch, eyeing the tent. "Malfoy is just fuckin' weird, dude."

"Language, you punk," snapped Sammeth. Ash simply rolled her eyes before casting her squad leader a mocking glance. "I'm just a lil' rebellion you can't handle old man," she drawled loudly.

Draco sighed, massaging his temples as he allowed himself to slump in his chair in a very un-Malfoylike manner. His mother would have had a fit if she saw him. Oh well: what she didn't know didn't hurt her.

He glanced at the only photo frame on his desk, eyes lingering thoughtfully on the snapshot that marked the day that had changed his life. One that had been on the front page of the Daily Prophet.

It had been taken the day of Voldemort's downfall: all the survivors of the Battle of Hogwarts stood in a incongruent clump of wounded, crying, smiling, cheering, dancing, mournful people… and on the very left of the photo stood the Malfoys, making it clear to the wizarding community on what side they had fought.

Draco's smirk turned into a tight, half hearted smile. _On what side the Malfoys had fought_… what a joke. It was only thanks to Potter that they were not all three of them in Azkaban. A pure strike of luck, and a genius move on his mother's part.

Of course they had stood before a court, but their only punishment was a mild fine and constant monitoring of their business affairs for the next 20 years. The Ministry cleanout of their house of all dark art related objects remained an urban myth that neither party made an effort to dissipate.

The young blond himself had been considered innocent of all charges due to his never killing someone, and being an underage wizard at the time of his failed attempts. Draco felt it was ridiculous. Everyone whew who he'd sided with, where his opinions lay! But they still… treated him like one of theirs. All of them pussyfooting around the fact that he was a bloody turncoat.

For the first time in his life, Draco had felt like scum. He had hated them for being so stupid. So accepting…. So forgiving. Of course, he'd expected all the skepticism, all the barely veiled insults thrown in his direction. In fact, he welcomed them. Anything to alleviate the guilt. But there simply were not enough of those negative feelings to allow him to feel better about himself.

He pushed those emotions away, shaking his head a little and reaching into his desk to pull a parchment and self inking quill out. The letter was short and to the point, and was certainly not one of the most pleasant ones he's ever written. Draco despised writing to his family about his failures.

He sealed the letter with a tap of his wand, the Malfoy seal appearing over the velum with a flash. Up in the rafters of his magically enlarged tent, Hades hooted softly and flew down to his master, sensing he was needed. Draco fed it a small snack, skillfully avoiding the sharp beak and attaching the missive to the black owl's leg.

"Hurry up, will you?" he muttered softly, carrying the bird to the flap of his tent and releasing him in the young night. He stared till it vanished in the horizon, then let his eyes drop to the deceptively small cottage nestled in a crater of charred land. It looked decrepit and rather forlorn. They were camping not a hundred feet away from the disaster zone.

Barely visible, the air sizzled around it with high voltage magic, saturated with dark curses and laden with destructive intent. The little crew had been working on the nexus surrounding the house for the past three days: that very morning they had finally blasted it. What they had not expected was the amount of magic trapped within. It had expanded tremendously, destroying all in its wake. Their Hex had been utterly destroyed, fighting the onslaught of savage magic only long enough to allow her team to raise a new barrier to contain it.

At least now Draco knew what was hidden in the house: the Amplificator. Its magical signature was unmistakable. The artifact itself was simply shaped like a hand held mirror, and served as its name described: the momentary enhancement ofone's power …. But for a price Draco didn't feel like dwelling on. Of course, the Amplificator was a dark artifact that Draco would be obliged to destroy as discretely as possible.

The young man shut his eyes and rubbed them tiredly with the heels of his palms, moving his hands over the stubble that covered his cheeks, and stifling a yawn. Bed time. Definitely bed time.

The tall blond made his way back in the tent, wading towards the bathroom. The magically enlarged tent was a true blessing. It was on days like this that Draco thanked the gods for being a Malfoy: rich and magically gifted. If not for magic he'd be pouring buckets of cold water over his head. Shuddering at the thought (what kind of damage would have become of his hair?) , Draco stepped in the shower with a sigh, and let the strong get of hot water bully the knots out of his back with a groan.

The next day was made of business.

"I need you to reinforce that ward of ours Malfoy," growled Sammeth, poking at their nexus with his wand. "The corrupted magic is already corroding it. See the breaches? It'll be down by tonight, and we need it to hold up for at least one more week or two. If it breaks while we're gone…"

"We'll be fu-cking scre-wed!" chimed Ash in a sing song voice from a few meters to their left, where she was busy patching the nexus up as best she could. She was sweating vigorously from the effort, but she still remained ever spastic.

"Shut up and concentrate least you mess up, punk!" growled Sammeth, shaking his fist at her threateningly. Draco's lips curled in a smirk, and Chancey rolled his eyes. For some reason their squad leader would only express affection through threat.

"Fine. Once our _Punk Scout_ is done with her task, I will step in," drawled Draco, casting an obnoxious look at the American before raising his hands and pressing them against the shimmering blue barrier.

It rippled with light as he lightly dug his fingers in it, eyes falling half shut. He reached out with his magic, falling into a well studied breathing pattern, and forcing his energy down his arms and to his fingers.

In the darkness of his mind, he felt out the weave the nexus was made of and it flared to life, igniting the dark with tangled steaks of light. Now, Draco was floating. Around him, magic lapped and twisted light gusts of wind made of different colored lights, mixing and distorting. Aerial blue, violet, lime green… his hands were buried in a tight net of aerial blue, the magic concentrated so tightly in the weave it had turned white. Looking around, Draco reached out with his mind, and plucked magic from the air, forcing it into the weave, helping Ash knit one of the larger holes closed, patching it up securely.

He forced his mind away from the nexus and allowed himself to go with the flow of magic, entering deeper into Limbo. He reached out around him, seeking out a power node that had not been corrupted yet. All around him, supernovas of magical light flared like beacons, but he pushed them aside and went a little deeper, noticing flares of red-hot magic tainting the nodes and reaching out to him: the poisoned Malfoy Magic was responding to his own. A great flaring maelstrom of pure white magic told him he'd found a clean power node at last: he tickled it gently. When he felt it respond he pulled out, taking in a deep breath of air.

"So?" breathed Chancey, tilting his head to the side. Draco glanced at him and arched an eyebrow ignoring the ache that seemed to have settled in all his articulations: one of the minor setbacks of going in Limbo deeper than the surface.

"So what?" he asked with a smirk before walking away with a slight limp in his step. In his wake Sammeth slapped his apprentices back. "He won't teach you boy. Forget it."

"But-"

"Just forget it, squirt," said Ash, glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes. "I'll teach you. Come and help me with this, or we'll still be here tomorrow." Sammeth slapped the young man's back again roughly, and turned to the barrier, raising his wand and setting to work. They had to toil faster than the nexus was deteriorating, or Malfoy wouldn't be able to do his job.

By mid-day, a sharp shout brought Malfoy out of the papers he'd been working on and running out of his tent. One look at his companions was enough to tell him he had a very small time window to work with.

"It's complete, but work fast Dragon Boy, it's eating up our magic at high speed. All that fucking dark magic inside is sentient. I swear it began fighting at soon as it figured out we here trapping it in tighter," growled Sammeth, sweat dripping down his brow at the effort he was making to keep the barrier up and going, feeding it with his own energy to keep it from renewed destruction.

Without missing a beat, the blond thrust his hands into the nexus, eyes shutting as he dove into the magical energies, fighting his way through the tides of hungry, destructive forces. He felt the artifacts' magic contained by the barrier, hungry for him, trying to reach out and swallow him hole: a dark mass of aggressive burgundy magic tearing against the wall of shimmering white his team had created. He forced himself to ignore it and push deeper, looking for a node the Amplificator had not found and corrupted yet, tainting it with Dark Magic.

He went back to the node he'd found that morning, it's warm comforting pulse momentarily soothing his anguished mind. He pressed closer, dragging with him the foundations of the barrier, holding tightly with his mind and magic, onto the threads that held the nexus strong. He felt the magics of his team blending in it, pulsing in tune with his. Chancy, his energy lively and ever curious. Sammeth's strong steady magic, a rock in the tempest surrounding him. Ashtoreth's, wild and driven, pushing him, urging him forwards with all its might .

He reached the node, pulling it to him and weaving the foundations of the barrier to it. He pushed and pressed, feeling the energies shift till they fused. Manipulating the light with his own magic, controlling it's scorching power with skill. He felt the burn of the raw magic burning his soul, but ignored the pain.

Bit by bit, he felt the node's magic flowing to the barrier, feeding it and making it stronger. At last, the fuse was complete and the magical node was steadily feeding the barrier against the onslaught of corrupt magic, keeping it strong.

Gingerly, Draco reached in, testing out the connection's power: it sent him a shock of magic that nearly kicked him out of Limbo. He'd have smirked if he could: the node would be strong enough to last at least ten days. Withdrawing from the ball of throbbing light, he shifted his consciousness to his surrounding, drawing into his own magic to create barriers and wards around the node to stave off anything corrupt from feeding from it.

When he opened his eyes, several hours had passed. He let out a long breath of air, feeling dizzy, and sitting down, feeling himself fall back into the familiar setting of a secured camp . "How long was I under?" he muttered, rubbing his temples and accepting the food that was thrust in his hands. He felt like hell. He could barely move, and shivers were running up and down his spine: static magic that was logging itself in his articulations. He forced deep breaths; wishing they still had their Hex, so she could help him flush the wild magic from his system. "About three hours," said Ash with a grin, pushing the bowl a bit. "Eat up. You look like death warmed over."

Draco forked the spicy chicken and potato mash in his mouth with a hand he willed not to tremble, looking up at Sammeth and Chancey, who were busy checking the strength of the ward. "Good job Malfoy. This doesn't look too shabby for once."

Draco flipped his boss the finger in a rare show of obvious rudenes, feeling all his ancestors roll in their graves as he did so. A part of him wondered how low he'd sunk, living every day of the year with such riff-raff, and how much they'd actually rubbed off on him. The other part just didn't give a damn, and whispered to him that this was what Hogwarts should have felt like. Freedom. Friends. Fun.

"Yo, Draco!" Ash was snapping her fingers in front of his face: obviously, she'd been trying to get his attention for a while. He blinked a couple of times before swatting her hand away, least she decided to pinch his nose. "Ah, so you're not brain dead after all. You got an owl!"

Draco arched an eyebrow and gave a shrill whistle. He still didn't feel quite up to walking yet. And breathing still hurt. Truth be told, Draco felt like his flesh had been savagely ripped from his bones and acid poured over his articulations. An owl swooped out of his tent, and dove towards him, crash-landing in his lap. He avoided the bird's sharp beak with an ease that stemmed from habit, and plucked the rather heavy packaged it was carrying from its talons before shooing it away.

Tearing the packet open he found an old hat and a letter. He read the letter, mouthing the words out to himself, and stopping himself from grimacing at a point or two.

Sammeth crouched next to him, waiting to know what happened next. At last, Draco folded the letter up again. "The portkey leaves at six for the Diagon Alley portkey station. " announced Draco. "Someone will collect the body from us there."

Draco felt his stomach sink a little, mercury eyes demurely glancing as black bag where the dead lay. His throat tightened uncomfortably.

Sammeth clapped his hand twice, standing with a spring to his step, doing his best to keep the mood of his team somewhat up-beat. "Chop-chop everyone! I want everything packed under one hour, you hear me? Get moving!"

After a few seconds, Sammeth realized Draco didn't look like he was about to move, obviously too busy eating with the elegance one would only make use of while attending a tea party. Sammeth rolled his eyes. "Oy. Princess. You quite done?"

Draco looked op slowly at the older man, somehow managing to look down his nose at him, fitting the old fedora over his tousled blond locks. "A Malfoy doesn't swoop down to accomplish such menial tasks… don't I pay you for those?"

Draco still didn't feel quite up to moving, and figured that annoying his team leader would be the best way to buy him some time in the most entertaining of ways. The older man did know how to put up a show of being angry.

Sammeths' lips curled in something between amusement and scorn. "The only thing you pay me for is to put up with the displeasure of your company. Now, the reason you do it, is because I'm the best. That's also why you'll be giving me a raise: because you are as insufferable, as I am brilliant. "

Draco nearly grinned, but managed to smirk instead. It turned into a grimace when he forced himself to stand. The world seemed to shift around him a couple of times before it settled in a just about normal position.

"Ye gods. A raise? Are you daft old man? It'll be a miracle if we're not all stuck chewing dragon jerky for the next month once the funeral blows our budget. That, and hiring a new Hex," complained Draco, making a show of lazily walking towards his tent.

The older man tilted his head, obviously annoyed. "That's rich coming from a Malfoy. I didn't even know 'tight budget' was a part of your vocabulary!"

"Ah…. Sammeth McGee. One thing you commoners will never understand, is that getting rich is easy. It's staying rich and being dashing at all times, that is the real trouble." Draco smirked before winking at his team leader, watching the annoyed twitch at the corner of the mans' left eye with interest. "Merlin only knows how I manage it every day."

Making a show of examining his nails, the blond flicked his wand at his tent, making it collapse and fold upon itself several times, till it turned into a neat pack.

"Thirty minutes, you insufferable ponce," growled the squad leader, snatching the hat from the blonds' head and storming away with it. Draco smirked in satisfaction before sitting down on his pack, and digging a replenishing potion from one of his pockets. He downed it in a gulp and grimaced, before rolling his shoulders.

Draco was not looking forwards to entering society once again. He easily avoided a shoe Ashtoreth felt the need to randomly throw at him. Well, Draco not looking forwards to entering _civilized_ society.

The Portkey Station went through a sudden hush when the team hit ground, rising dust and leaving static magic in their wake. Looks were drawn towards the black body-bag with morbid curiosity, and then got caught by the somewhat roughed up looks that all four of the travelers seemed to carry about themselves. Draco saw several women blush, and felt his lips curl in disgust while he busied himself dusting his black t-shirt and auror release cargo pants.

Let the show begin.

Several men from the ministry first came to dispose of the body, forcing the team through a few questions before having them sign papers. Draco already knew there would be an investigation, but didn't feel worried about it. The downfall of Voldemort hadn't been the downfall of corruption, thank Merlin for that.

The blond watched with slight revulsion, while Sammeth got swept up by his wife and children amidst sickening tears of joy and cries of glee. Next was Ashtoreth with her boy-toy of the moment.

Well he'd been her boy-toy for several years now, but Draco refused to admit someone as wild as the American could have a serious affair with the likes Neville Longbottom. Truth be told, Neville himself liked to imagine the tall blond his girlfriend was working for, was someone else than Draco, hoping his fiction would magically become reality. Thus, both parties didn't acknowledge each other, unless swearing was involved.

Chancey was due on the next Portkey to Bulgaria and had scuttled of after a fast "good bye", leaving Draco standing alone with his pack, and a horrible migraine. His migraine increased when he spotted his mother. Dutifully, he grabbed his belongings and marched towards her, fitting an easy smile on his face.

"Hello mother."

She nearly smiled tilting her head, allowing him to kiss her on the cheek, before he offered his arm to her. They walked. Once out of the station, they turned left on Diagon Alley. Draco let his eyes stray over the shop widows, keeping his eyebrow from raising when they walked past Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. He'd never borrow a quill again. After that, he allowed his mind to stray a little longer, before finally breaking the silence.

"Dare I ask where father is?"

His mothers' hand tightened over his arm. "Saint Mungo again… You know how fragile he's become." Only a true Malfoy could have perceived the concern that lingered in her voice. He allowed his gaze to soften when he met hers.

"Don't worry."

"How could I not, with both my men drawing themselves to thin." Narcissa Malfoys' lips thinned dangerously. "Don't." she said sharply before her son could utter a word. "I've already made arrangements for Mr. McGee to help you choose a new Hex for the Team. I know we don't have a choice. People are just waiting for us to fall."

The beautiful blond raised her head a little higher, her shoulders squaring imperceptibly. "After all, I didn't risk all our lives on the Potter boy for old trinkets to ruin our freedom."

This time, Draco allowed himself a true smile, shifting his pack over his back.

Mother and son ambled off on one of the side streets of Diagon Alley, into Salazar Street, one of the high profile residential streets of magical London. It was quite a sight, since as usual, magical architecture seemed to defy all laws of physics. "I still can't believe you'd rather live here than with us at the Manor," muttered Narcissa, eyeing a tree bearing suspicious looking blue plum-like fruit with distaste.

"Let's please not have this talk again," sighed the young man, stopping at the foot of an elegant white building. An asymmetric, lopsided kind of elegance, but elegant nonetheless. "Would you like to come in, have a cup of tea? I'm sure Brandy would be delighted to serve Mistress Malfoy once again. You know how that house-elf adores you."

The older woman's lips twisted in slight distaste. Draco could see her mind trying to work out if her next words could be considered lady-like. "Thank you dear, but I'd rather not violate the privacy of you… _bachelor pad_." The words were enough to make her shudder. "By the way, you must come and have tea with Miss Parkinson and I. She's lost several pounds in the past year and has become a most pleasing young woman."

Draco cast his mother an alarmed glance. "Mother! She'd been married to Zabini for over a year now! How could you-?"

Narcissa cut off her foolish son with an impatient wave of her hand. "Oh shush." By now, Draco was feeling more than a little distraught, and only longed for two things: a bath and a cup of strong coffee. "I was talking about Petunia, her younger sister of course!"

"She's fourteen years old mother," he sputtered. Loosing composure for a split second before lightly grabbing his mothers shoulders.

"Please…. You know how those things work. Magic attracts magic. You can't force these things!"

"Precisely. You won't know unless you meet her!" The blonds' ruby lips curled in satisfaction, knowing her son couldn't object to that. She sighed shortly, and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "I know you are tired Draco. But please humor your aging mother. And _do_ cut that hair," added Narcissa, lightly pushing the curtain of long silver-blond strands away from her nose to allow the said kiss. " I'll owl you."

Draco smiled thinly at her and nodded , before climbing the stairs to his loft, hearing the telltale snap of his mother disapparating.

Tomorrow would be a new day.

And Draco had no intention of cutting his hair.


	2. Chapter 2: Talking to the Dead

**Disclaimer: The author of this fan fiction does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the original characters of the Harry Potter series belong to their original creator J.K.R.**

Heartless

_By: Dranius_

_Chapter 2: Talking to the Dead_

"Tonight is the night. The night we've been waiting for."

Ginny smiled, taking the hands of her girl friends and squeezing them tightly as they grinned at each other.

Hermione and Luna exchanged a glance before chorusing, "Ginny is getting engaged!"

The redhead hid a blush, releasing her friends' hands and waving the comment away. "Oh come on girls, he hasn't even proposed yet…"

Hermione rolled her eyes, unable to remain giddy for only so long before her usual aloof attitude came charging back.

"My Merlin, Ginny! It's the perfect moment. Harry finally got his Auror certificate _and_ his dream job at the ministry. He's been your boyfriend since what? The end of the war? Plus your Hogwarts history…"

"He's taking you to the most romantic restaurant in London…" said Luna in her usual dreamy fashion, lightly running her fingers over Ginny's hair. "You have such a pretty dress… He'll love your hair," added the woman, adjusting the beautiful red dress over Ginny's figure one last time and fixing her hair with a few last charms.

"Harry is bound to propose." Concluded Hermione pressing a surprisingly heavy black purse in Ginny's manicured hands.

The redhead looked at herself critically in the mirror before breaking into a grin, turning around to hug both her friends tightly.

"Oh girls! I'm so nervous! So happy! So excited!" Ginny pulled back slightly, kissing both her flat mates on the cheek. "Wish me luck… I'd better go now. He's been waiting in the living room for nearly twenty minutes already."

"Get him girl," cheered Luna, pumping her fist in the air.

"And don't worry about a thing: all you'll ever need is in the purse," added Hermione, opening the door for her.

With a last smile at her friends, GInny walked down the hall and stepped in the living room.

Harry stood up and smiled at her, very elegant in a simple button down shirt and black slacks. He'd even shaved properly.

"Ginny."

He walked up to her and kissed her lightly, taking her hand and making her twirl for him. "You're breathtaking tonight."

Indeed, the evening was perfect. Harry complimented Ginny on her dress and the redhead had the grace to blush, shooting back a comment on how he was not so bad looking either. He led her to his car and like a gentleman, held the door open for her at the restaurant.

The food was exquisite. The small talk was light, but Ginny was beginning to have trouble hiding her increasing impatience and excitement. What she'd wanted most in the world since she was ten was going to happen at last.

She, Ginevra Molly Weasley, was about to become the bride of her childhood crush, hero of the magical world, number one most eligible bachelor according to _'Witch Weekly'_, winner of the most dazzling smile award four times in a row, her brothers' best friend, already a son to her mother, most handsome and charming… Harry Potter.

At last…. Dessert. Ginny refrained from grabbing her fork and butchering the chocolate fondant he'd chosen for her right then and there to find the ring that was bound to be hidden in it.

Instead, she daintily held her fork in the manner her mother had thought her was the 'Proper Way For a Young Lady' and delicately sliced a tiny portion from the edge; obliging herself with a trembling hand and racing heart, to take her time and 'Enjoy the Moment'.

Harry cleared his throat lightly and put down his fork. He looked incredibly nervous. "Ginny…" he reached out for her hands, making her put her fork down and reach out to him. She smiled.

This was even better than she'd imagined. Ginny felt her heart race. "Love. You know how much you mean to me. How much we have been through. And what's we've lived so far… well; it's been fantastic."

Ginny nodded, lightly squeezing his hands in encouragement. She wished he'd get on with it. "You know I just finished Auror training and that I've been admitted to the Alpha team. It's everything I've ever wanted. But there is still so much more I'd like, Ginny. You know I want my parents to be proud of me."

"I completely understand," said the redhead. Truthfully, Ginny didn't understand. She was getting impatient. Honestly. He was proposing her and all he could do was talk about himself.

" And that's why Ginny… " Harry took a deep breath, emerald green met deep cognac hues; " I think we should break up."

"Yes!"

There was a short moment of silence following the youngest Weasley's outburst; a moment in which Ginny's brain finally caught up with the situation. Harry hand's relaxed in slight surprise. Ginny tensed abruptly. She snatching her hands away.

"_What?"_

Several heads turned in alarm.

"Ginny… I though you saw this coming… I mean… think about it…" Harry looked a bit overwhelmed, putting his napkin on the table and flailing gently with his hands. As if making wild gestures along with half formed sentences would help him get out of the restaurant without creating a scene.

"Think about it…" hissed the woman, narrowing her eyes.

Ginny f watched Harry gulp. She put her napkin on the table.

Harry kept speaking. She wished he would just shut up.

The way he shifted uncomfortable in his seat, she just knew the hair at the nape of his neck was prickling: a sure sign he was in danger. The hero of the wizarding world was stupid enough to dig his grave deeper. Instead of making a run for the exit while he still has a slim chance of survival, he chose to explain himself further:

"We had wonderful years together Ginny. 'Us' worked during the war. All the action, all the freedom… We were perfect for each other, in that world. But now…. Now things have changed. Now it's about building something new. Something great. You and me as a couple… we don't fit in this new world. All you want are kinds, a small house… a small story. You have no ambition. You simply refuse to have anything to do with the ministry. You can't keep a job. It feel like you're trying to get away from this new world we created for ourselves, instead of diving head first into it. The fiery goddess of war I knew in Hogwarts who wanted to conquer the world and rid it of evil… I can't see her in you anymore. All I see is… _Molly Weasley_. As much as I love your mom, I refuse to marry her."

Ginevra Weasley leaned back in her chair and grabbed her glass of red wine, calmly observing Harry while she daintily twirled the red liquid in the glass before taking a sip.

She could tell the dark haired man was getting nervous. She, on the other hand, had never felt so calm save in the midst of the war.

Surely Harry realized that she didn't give a damn about being in public and that he was in dire danger. Ginny forced her fingers to relax lest she break the glass.

Dung was about to hit the fan, and it would not be pretty.

Fleetingly, Ginny remembered something she had once read out loud to Harry from a Muggle book she'd liked. "Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned; Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned." That Shake-spear person certainly knew his stuff.

Ginny found herself slowly standing up. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable in her new dress. Her hair was irritating. She retrieved her wand from her purse and a flick later, her hair was once again hanging free around her shoulders. It hit her how ridiculous this entire affair was. How ridiculous_ she_ was. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment and anger.

The anger, she chose to direct at Harry. The embarrassment, she kept for herself. She felt like crying. Instead, she found the strength to curl her lips in a cruel little smile. Ginny then extended the hand holding the glass of wine, and poured in over Harrys' head in a thin trickle, savoring the sensation.

When she was done pouring, she dropped the glass and watched it shatter, petrified as a deer caught in the headlights, realizing the implications of her actions. Ginny watched Harry turn crimson in embarrassment, before he dared look her in the eyes.

Then, he paled.

The youngest Weasley slowly raised her wand, eyes narrowed as she hissed the following words: "I will show you fiery goddess of war." She extended her wand arm, curses begging to burst free from her lips. She could already picture the carnage: No amounts of special training could have prepared Harry James Potter to defend himself against what would happened next. Ginny Weasley, had her mind set on proving him wrong, and nothing could match the infamous Weasley temper.

Cutlery would fly, women would scream, plates would attack him with vicious intent. The table cloth and napkin would try to choke Harry to death. Around Harry, the room's inanimate objects would became alive with the intention to kill and maim at the command of Ginny's blazing wand.

Ginny's cruel smile twisted. Her golden eyes alight with fury, she raised her wand, about to put her revenge into action.

Harry dived beneath the table, wand flailing to protect himself best he could. But no curses came.

Ginny watched the confused man intently and faltered, the fury in her eyes melting away till only two orbs of soulful gold stared at him. She lowered her wand arm, shoulders slumping slightly.

"So this the end…Right?" she whispered, her pitiful murmur sounding atrociously loud in the now silent restaurant.

Ginny Weasley lifted her chin, tearing her eyes away from Harry. "Please, don't try to make things better between us before a couple of months. Maybe more." she said softly, still refusing to look at him again.

Instead, she walked towards the exit, and smiled tightly at the headwaiter who was holding her coat out for her. Indeed, service in French restaurants was always above impeccable. She gracefully slipped in it. Her resolve didn't waver and she managed to walk out of the restaurant without looking back.

She apparated in the middle of her living room with a crack. Hermione looked up from the couch where she sat curled up and reading the largest edition of "_Hogwarts, a History"_ Ginny had ever laid her eyes on. Luna's head popped through the kitchen door, a spoon in her mouth; eyebrow rising in obvious surprise.

In the short time it had taken for Ginny to find a safe place to apparate, her temper had returned with a vengeance.

"This isn't _happening_ to me!" seethed Ginny, dropping her purse and shedding her coat, throwing the pair in the free couch. "It's impossible!"

Luna cautiously moved into the living room the three girls shared, spoon and tub of ice cream in hand, while Hermione marked her page. "Ginny?" asked the bushy haired girl, hesitantly sharing a look with Luna. They watched the pacing redhead a moment before Luna dared press a question. "What happened?"

"Harry dumped me! That's what happened!" snapped Ginny, suddenly stopping her pacing and facing her friends. She relaxed her tense pose and adopted a posture reminiscent of Harrys'.

"Oh, I'm sorry Ginny, but I don't want to marry your mother."

Both her friends winced, while Ginny began pacing again, growing angrier. "Why is this happening to _me_?" moaned the young woman, falling into a chair. "And now I'll never have the guts to walk back into that restaurant…"

Luna perched herself on the arm of the chair Ginny was sitting on, filling Ginny's hands with the spoon and ice-cream. Ginny didn't see her look at Hermione and mouth the word _"Denial",_ holding a first finger up. Set on autopilot, Ginny spooned the chocolaty creamy goodness into her mouth.

"I don't understand, we were having this perfect moment. The moment I'd been waiting for. And he… he says we should break up. I mean, seriously? What was he thinking? How could he do that to me?" The young woman viciously stabbed the tub of dessert with her spoon.

Hermione and Luna simply stared in shocked silence as Ginny went silent, obviously embarrassed by her outburst.

"And then… I lost it and poured my drink over his head, nearly cursed him, and left. It's not like the arse doesn't deserve it. The idiot. I can't believe I ever let him touch me. I hate him. I should go back in there and start kicking him in the ribs repeatedly. I should set my brothers on him. Teach him a lesson. Sodding prick! "

Luna snorted and glanced at Hermione, mouthing _"Anger"_ and holding a second finger up. Hermione rubbed her eyes. This was not good. "Oh, Ginny…"

The redhead bit her lip. She put down her tub of ice cream and began fidgeting "Do you think that if I go back now, promise I'll be a better person, promise to be just like he wants… you think Harry will take me back?"

Hermione's stared in disbelief at her friend. _"Ginny!"_ The redhead shrugged and slumped back in the chair, dragging the tub of ice cream back with her. Luna held a third finger up. _"Bargaining."_

"Oh, whatever. I don't care about Harry bloody Potter. He's a git. I don't care about anyone. I'll just die alone in this apartment to be eaten alive by my fourty-three cats."She filled her mouth with ice cream and spoke through it. "It's not like I had anything else planned anyways. I'll never ever be happy, so why bother."

Luna shared a look with Hermione, holding a fourth finger up. "_Depression."_ Hermione rolled her eyes. She shot Luna a look and its message was clear: '_What do we do_?' Luna raised her eyebrows in response in the typical _'What the hell do I know?'_. Their silent interaction was interrupted by Ginny suddenly sitting up in her chair and returning the ice cream and spoon to Luna.

"Okay," started Ginny in a steady voice. "Harry and I are over now. I need to take a shower and get ready for that job interview I have tomorrow. I've got a life to attend to and I will face it, Harry Potter in tow or not." With that she stood and smoothed her dress down.

"Thanks for being there for me, girls," she said with a small grin before walking to her room.

Luna slid into the chair Ginny had just vacated, spooning ice cream in her mouth undisturbed. Hermione let out the breath she didn't ever remember holding. "And…Acceptance. I don't think I've ever seen anyone skip through the five stages of grief so fast in my life," quipped the blond, frowning a bit as she glanced at her watch, and shaking her head in disbelief.

Hermione stood up, rolling her eyes. "This is Ginny we're talking about. Ginny _Weasley_. Who just lost the love of her life. Believe me, this is not over."

Luna shrugged. "Well, it's bound to be interesting. Still I'm glad Harry dumped her. I wonder how long it'll take for her to realize she's been putting her life on hold all this time to make sure things would go down smoothly for him."

Hermione's small smile turned into a pained wince. "Merlin save us all when that happens." The bushy haired woman hesitated for a second. "Do you think we've been bad friends?" she asked suddenly.

"We did our best. After spending over a year trying to get her to realize what she was doing, all we could do was encourage her till it all fell apart," said Luna, dreamily staring out of the window.

"I guess," mumbled Hermione, putting her coat on. "What's there to say?"

"A lot." Luna smiled through a mouthful of ice cream in response.

Hermione grinned back at her flat mate, though much against her better judgment. "You greedy woman. You're just eating all this up for your next '_Quibbler'_."

"Maybe." Luna's smile melted back to her usual dreamy expression of semi-absence. "You're going to pick up the mess?" she asked, changing subject entirely. 'The mess' or in other words 'Harry'.

Hermione nodded, grabbing her purse. Luna stood up and crouched next to the fire, pinching some Floo powder up. "You'd better hurry before the media show up…" said the blond. A cracking sound was her only answer.

_*.*.*_

A few hours later found Ginny staring at the moon through the window of her room. With a sigh she went round to the now empty living room and walked out on the balcony the three girls shared. The December wind was sharp and fresh, almost making Ginny shiver.

The woman took a deep breath, leaning against the balustrade and casting a contemplative eye over London. She flicked her wand and deftly caught the cigarette she'd summoned, igniting it with the tip of her wand.

The young woman inhaled deeply, eyes shutting as the nicotine began floating through her system. Fleetingly, she worried what would happen to Teddy now that she was not there to care for him. Harry was good to him, but remained so very absent. She shook her head softly, threading her fingers through her hair and tugging punishingly at it to get her mind back on the right track.

When would she be done thinking always of others? When would Ginny Weasley's time to be cared for come? She exhaled deeply, letting her questions fade into thin air.

The young redhead was not a fool, or no longer one. The shock of the breakup had her questioning her actions over the past years.

Always setting herself back. Always putting Harry first. Allowing Harry to speak in her stead. Allowing her ambitions to fade to nothing; to focus around Harry. What had she worked so hard for in Hogwarts? So far, all she'd done was sabotage her own efforts.

She'd trained to become a warrior, but there was no war left to fight.

Excepty maybe a war against the Ministry. Ginny didn't like the new government. They had used the post-war fear to build an authoritative empire. Hermione and Luna were people who every day, had to fight against the Misitry and its' protectionism.

But Ginny was a no-name in this new world. The fame she'd gathered as the leader of Dumbledor's Army was frowned upon. Few people took lightly to a war fought by children. The Ministry had banned civilians from creating armed forces de defend themselves.

A tear rolled down her cheek. She'd lost focus on who she was. Ginny was not sure what stung the most: that she'd allowed herself to be such a fool or that Harry had been right.

"Fred…" she sighed, looking upwards, feeling her heart drop when she failed to see the stars. "Fred, I so wish you were here to make me laugh…"

She took another well deserved pull from the cigarette, allowing her eyes to rove over the city once again. She felt incredibly empty. An emptiness Harry had only served to camouflage: he'd kept her busy, kept her focused on repairing everything but herself. Indeed, asking marriage from him had been selfish. Harry had been right to call it off, even if his reasons only concerned himself.

Still, in the pit of her stomach, unease was bubbling. It was rare amongst wizards not to marry young; and for good reason. Magic was more than just making life easier. Somewhere out there, she knew someone completed her, would fill the hollow in her heart; someone who's magic would answer to hers on harmony, like her wand answered correctly only to its master.

Magic calls Magic. By now, her instincts should have led her to her Soulmate; even more so since she was Pure-blooded. Though she hated making the distinction, she still had to abide to the Bloodlore that ruled her lineage and that Hermione would never have to suffer from… till the moment she finally gave in to Ron's pressing demands for her hand in marriage.

The young woman pressed her hand over her beating heart with a sigh, she could feel it pounding beneath her skin, but the sensation didn't resonate throughout her body.

Her mother would go crazy over the breakup. She's already been so worried that Harry hadn't proposed the moment Voldemort's body had been incinerated and his remains sealed several times over.

"Fred… Harry broke up with me today. I still don't feel my heart beating properly. Maybe…" Ginny closed her eyes tightly. "Maybe I must face reality and realize that I'm a Heartless," whispered the young woman.

The word Heartless hung in the air like a curse. Heartless was the common words used for those who did not have a Soulmate, or one to whom the gods had been cruel and given a Soulmate who was fated to belong to another. Severus Snape was a prime example of one of those people.

Her stomach clenched when she recalled the memories of the Battle of Hogwarts Harry had shown her. The memory of Snape ordering Harry to look at him as he died. Ginny often wondered if Harry had ever understood that their old Potion Master had wanted to die looking into the eyes of Lily Evans.

She shook her head, discarding shaking away her thoughts, wrapping her arms around herself. There was nothing to gain in such dark musings. "What should I do now, Fred? What do I want to do now?"Ginny smiled in amusement, she could almost hear her brother answering her. "I agree, I'll ask George to do something about it." The young woman crushed her cigarette and vanished it with a flick of her wand.

A little lost and a little hopeless, Ginny felt like life had nothing left in store for her. She bit her lip, allowing the sharp pain to bring her back to present. Heartless or not, Ginny knew that she had to get a grip. Her saving were thinning out since her last job and she knew that soon, she wouldn't be able to afore her share of the rent.

It had been much too long since she took care of herself.

It was time she did something good for herself.

She shut the door to the balcony with an air of finality.

Tomorrow would be a new day.

_*.*.*_

**Autor's Note: First off, thank you for those of you who reviewed, added this story to their favorite or to their alerts. Again, I'd like to thank Jedi Tess for her beta work. I'll be updating this fic about every month, though shorter chapters will be posted every two weeks. As all authors, I'm a sucker for reviews. Feedback is what I need to make the writing of this fic awesome for you and me.**

**Read and Reaview!**


	3. Chapter 3: Moving on with the Dead

**Disclaimer: The author of this fan fiction does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the original characters of the Harry Potter series belong to their original creator J.K.R.**

Heartless

_By: Dranius_

_Chapter 3: Moving on with the Dead_

"You see Miss Weasley, we _do_ understand that you are a talented and most powerful witch. I read here that you graduated with fairly good marks from Hogwarts, specializing in elemental offensive hexes and war magic. Captain of the dueling club. Then upon graduating, you went on to hunt down the rogue Death Eaters as a…mercenary. What makes you believe, Miss Weasley, they you are suited for working at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop?"

Madam Puddifoot's secretary peered at Ginny over the resume she was holding, arching her eyebrows expectantly. Ginny forced a smile. Somehow, she knew that whatever she said, she'd never get the job. "…I make one mean cup of tea?" she ventured cautiously, seeking approval in her interlocutors eyes.

The hawk-like eyes darkened and all Ginny could see in their business oriented depths was unemployment. "Miss Weasley, I regret to inform you that we won't be able to give you the job. To be honest, I'm surprised you ever even applied for it. You seem like a smart, honest-to-Merlin woman." For a short moment, the woman offered her a smile, "I'm sure you were offered many jobs that were better suited to your talents. Please don't take offence Miss Weasley, but you don't seem like the type of girl that is impassioned by the delicate art of tea-brewing."

Ginny straightened in her chair, tilting her head and sighed in defeat. "You are right about me not being a true tea aficionado," she said with a small grin. "But you are wrong about the rest. Not all of us were declared war heroes by the media. Not all of us were offered golden jobs. Some of us never even got a 'thank you'."

Hermione and Luna had offered to pay her share of the rent since she'd run out of money, and for the moment, she'd been forced to accept their help. Her last failure at keeping a normal job still made her cheeks burn in shame, but the young red-head couldn't allow herself to depend on her beloved flat mates forever. Ginny bit her lip, swallowing her pride. "Please, I'll understand if you don't call me back, but I really need a job."

The woman behind the desk offered her another of her small sympathetic smiles. The kind of smile that let Ginny know there was no chance in hell she'd get a call. "I understand Miss Weasley. I will take your application into consideration. Thank you for coming to this interview." The young redhead stood, slipping her coat back on and pausing with her hand on the door handle, taking a deep breath. "Good day, Madam."

Once outside of Diagon Alley's Puddifoot branch building, she leaned her back against a nearby wall. She took a deep breath through her nose, shutting her eyes briefly and rubbing her temples tiredly. "Well that went all to pot…" she muttered gloomily.

With a sigh, the young woman detached herself from the door and began walking down Diagon Alley at a lazy pace, rummaging through her pockets for her pack of cigarettes. The December air was chilly and the tips of her fingers were slightly numb from the cold, making her fumble the coffin nail uselessly.

She especially hated being addicted to those little beasts in the winter, where it was too cold to get a proper grasp on anything. And then again, that was also the reason she's started smoking, back when she was a mercenary.

At last she managed to pull one from the pack and light it without singing any of her hair in the process. Feeling rather proud at the small victory, and hoping her day would somehow get better, she took off towards her brother's shop, seeking a laugh.

She stopped in front of WWW, watching the colorful windows light up with tricks and fireworks. A catchy new slogan was advertising new exploding gift wrappers and animated trick tree decorations collection, "Have a Very Weasley Christmas" flashed before her eyes.

Ginny was smiling until she spotted a miniature blushing tree ornament replica of herself busy kissing a Harry bloody Potter puppet. She growled audibly and crushed her smoldering cigarette against the wall, before taking off in the opposite direction, ignoring the outraged cries of a voice she recognized as George's. Without looking back, she flipped him the finger over her shoulder.

She was expecting further enraged yelling, but instead an explosion swept her off her feet. Ginny felt her eardrums burst with the force of the explosion, and for a fraction of a second, the world seemed to go still, enveloped in total silence. The woman's eyes roamed wildly over what little she could see. Thick smoke and dust make her eyes water while timber and brick was projected all around her. She felt like she was floating.

Ginny hit the wall with a bone jarring smack. The shock jolted her into action as her world turned into a high-pitched ringing. She did a quick mental checkup of her condition, drawing her wand faster than an untrained eye could follow. A silver shimmer erupted from the tip of her wand, drawing itself in a protective bubble around her.

She couldn't hear through the ringing in her ears and knew her eardrums were in shock due to the bang. Instead, she kept her eyes peeled open for any sign of a second wave of attack, falling back heavily on all her remaining senses. The redhead easily retreated into the survival techniques she'd developed out on the field as a mercenary, and was operating on the assumption this was a Death Eater attack.

As Death Eater attacks went, Ginny figured they would use their classic murderous combo. This had been stage one of the attack : blind and incapacitate the enemy through flashy and destructive flamboyance. She now was waiting for stage two: Once the enemy is weakened, move in for the real attack.

Her shield flared brilliantly when a spell hit it. Ginny's eyes narrowed. She began drawing her wand for a spell, but realized the dust was still too thick for anything so brutal.

It was the first week of the Christmas holidays and the street was bogged with Hogwarts students and parents doing last-minute shopping. Shadows were moving all around her, outlined with the lights of flashing hexes: she had no idea who was friend and who was foe. In fact, she couldn't see her own hands clearly through the falling dust and choking smoke.

"Bloody hell," she growled, unable to hear the sound of her own words. She was beginning to feel dizzy, and realized the dust had been replaced with magically cast darkness, making it hard to breath. The trap was slowly closing up on them. If she didn't do anything soon, they would become hapless victims till the Aurors made it to the scene. The Aurors… and that meant Harry.

Ginny clenched her teeth, feeling a violent resolve claw at her chest. She refused to let that man save her. She raised her wand and concentrated, drawing out the precise intricate moves that would allow her to prevail. She felt her blood begin to boil, reacting to the old magic she was casting and smiled.

Weasley blood was fire. Cradling that thought close to her heart, she waved her wand one last time and spoke a single word of power. It burnt her lips, her throat and her tongue, the magic enclosed in that word so raw if could barely be contained.

Ginevra burst into flames, and the inferno devoured any darkness it touched. She stood upright and walked forwards purposefully, feeling the word of power consuming her magic and the magic surrounding her. The young woman knew she only had so much time before she collapsed from exhaustion.

She reached out, pushing her mind beyond its earthly bonds, and the fire followed her whim. Bright red, golden, white and blue it exploded around her and swept the darkness away with it, leaving the innocent uninjured.

Ginny saw red, using the fire to sense out magic it could devour. It was hungry. Under its influence, s_he_ was growing hungry.

A pit of darkness. The sense of Dark Mark. Ginny walked towards it and reached out a fiery hand. The green flash of light was dissolved by the fire . It reached out and wrapped around the hooded figure, ignoring the screams, feeling its fear, its anguish and greedily feasting on it. A moment later, there was nothing left for the fire to eat.

Ginny looked around, hair ablaze, eyes endless pits of smoldering fire. She smiled, each tooth a small flickering flame, spotting another evil man that would feed the power hungry inferno she was barely harnessing. Two. Three. Four men. The hunger grew as she consumed. Then, there were no more evil men to satiate the fire and her. The fire had only her left to devour.

This was the hardest part.

Ginny gathered the last of her magic and forced it through her throat, calling unto the word of power that would free her. But it was stuck there, like a thick molasses she couldn't quite puke up. The fire was fighting her now, it wanted to remain alive. The word was stuck in her throat, she was choking on it. She couldn't get it out. It burned. Burned so much. Ginny clawed at her throat with flaming hands as the fire turned against her, not wanting to die.

The smell of her burning flesh filled her nostrils.

She felt her blood bubbling in her veins, felt herself slip into the euphoria of endless power. Tipping backwards into herself and tottering at the edge of Limbo. The fire consuming her, becoming her. She was beginning to see black spots, feeling the word of power like hot bile logged in the back of her throat. Choking her.

She was too drained to use it. She didn't have enough magic to spit it out. Only a spark. She only needed a single extra spark.

Something cool touched her throat. A brush of a magic she did not know. Her magic flared violently, latching onto that spark of cool magic and making it hers. Her blood sang. She coughed the word out. The fire tore away from her skin, making her moan in pain as it ripped away some of her with it and away into Limbo.

Ginny puked violently, collapsing on a knee. The ringing was back. She took a deep, shuddering breath and looked around through foggy eyes. The air reeked of sulfur and charred magic. Static with the heavy forces. She stood and stumbled, relying only on her senses. She hit a wall and rested there, panting. Disoriented.

She was hurting, weak, the static magic was pricking her skin painfully.

What had she felt? Her exhausted mind couldn't comprehend. The world spun violently, throwing her off her feet. She slid off the wall. Hit the ground like a drunken teenager. Panting still, she looked upwards at a sky she thought was way too blue and bright, the dark dots at the corners of her vision becoming larger and larger as she felt her body grow heavier.

Ginny blinked in a last effort of consciousness. A boot nudge her aching side. Someone was standing over her, outlined by that sickeningly baby blue sky. Fear made her heart rate spike once again. She clutched her wand even tighter and muttered a hex. The last thing Ginny saw before she blacked out, was the astonishment that flashed though the mercury blue eyes of the man she'd just cursed.

The astonishment and the appraisal.

* * *

><p>*.*.*.*<p>

* * *

><p>No matter how many times Ginny woke up in Saint Mungo's Hospital, it never got any better.<p>

It always smelt like a subtle yet horribly familiar blend of antiseptic charms and urine. The walls, drapes, floors, ceiling, uniforms were always white or a dreadful off-tone of pastel that no-one could ever quite pull of wearing. The staff was either outrageously chummy or impossible to find. And they never, ever forgot to owl the obscenely expensive bill.

The redhead yawned and tried to rub her eyes, only to find out she couldn't move her arms. Looking down, she realized they were bound to the side guards of her bed. Her lips twisted as her eyebrows shot up in bewilderment.

This was not quite the improvement she'd been hoping for.

"I'm glad to see you are awake Miss Weasley." Ginny looked up sharply, eyes focusing for the first time on the man sitting in a chair a little way away from her bed. His smart grey suit and light blue tie designated him as a part of the law department of the Auror enforcement. She knew him well from the formal events organized by the Ministry to which she'd attended: he'd been one of the main people to fawn over Harry.

"Mr. Dalton… I'd like to say it's a pleasure to see you… but I'm afraid I'm a little brassed off at the moment. These new amenities are less that pleasing," she said, smiling tightly as she jingled her restraints demonstratively. "But then again…" her eyes narrowed. "I'm sure you have a word or two to say about them yourself."

Mr. Dalton was a tall, sharp looking man. In his late fifties, he had the fierce look of one who'd survived two wars and had the firm intention of not letting a mere twenty-something year old witch get the best of him. Also, he didn't looked overly pleased to be there in person. His general demeanor at that very moment was of one who'd sucked an extra sour lemon.

"They told me you were smart Miss Weasley, I expected a little more guessing and a little less complaining on your part. As you know that bit of magic you performed in a very crowded street should be earning you a thorough interrogation in our headquarters along with a very hefty punishment. You performed an act of terrorism and the number of people you are accountable for maiming varies from one to ten depending on the witnesses. There were many traumatized people left in that street Miss Weasley."

Ginny paled, then indignation flushed her cheeks. "I was only trying to protect the people!" she snapped. The young woman didn't add that she felt she'd been lenient with the Death Eaters. All she had called the fire to do was devour their magic. She matched the man's cold impatient glare with an equally icy expression.

Mr. Daltons' lip twitched and for a moment his sour mask turned into one of derision. "I know all too well what you did Miss Weasley. You created mass havoc in a danger zone. You terrified innocent citizens. You didn't wait for the competent authorities to take charge. I don't know how often I will have to stress this Miss Weasley, but you do not have this kind of authority."

Ginny trembled with fury. She didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve those shackles. "Death Eaters-"

"Please, listen to me. The war is over. You must try to live accordingly. I know you were doing what seemed best, but Voldemort is dead now. The people already have a hero. He's an Auror. And unless you choose to become one yourself, I cannot let you act the way you did... What if something had gone wrong?"

This time Ginny paled, remembering that horrible moment when the fire devoured her. Mr Dalton went on, choosing to ignore her reaction.

"Considering your past and present situation, certain influential people went out of their way to put in a good word for you." The man stood and tapped his wand to the straps attaching her arms to the bed, making them shrivel and burst to dust. "Let this time be a warning to you Miss Weasley, because next time, I will not let things slide so easily. The Aurors will not cover up for you a second time. Good intentions or not Miss Weasley, we are trying to build a new world where legal justice rules."

Before Ginny could answer, he was gone and a nurse had bustled her way in.

"Good morning, Miss Weasley!" beamed the woman, unhooking the chart from the bottom of Ginny's bed and beginning to tap the redhead's body with her wand, checking her vitals. "I'm so glad to see you better! You gave us quite a fright. Open your mouth dear."

Ginny obediently opened her mouth and let the woman check the back of her throat and then her ears. "You've recovered beautifully," beamed the witch.

Ginny frowned a little, meeting the older woman's eyes. "What happened?"

The nurse hung the chart at the end of the bed again and rested her hands on the railing. "A young man brought you in yesterday morning directly after the Death Eater attack in Diagon Alley. You had severe burns over most your body, ruptured eardrums, several fractured ribs and a mild concussion. The most worrying though, was that your vitals were at a critical low. We all worked very hard on you."

The nurse grabbed one of Ginny's feet in what might have been a friendly if not slightly awkward rub. Mercury eyes flashed through Ginny's memory. Mercury eyes and a sickeningly blue sky. It made her dizzy.

"A young man?" she asked, stomach clenching a little. Ginny frowned. Hunger, no doubt. She patted her stomach soothingly.

"Ah yes. You had several people check in on you. But…" enthused the nurse. Ginny swore she spied a blush. The nurse leaned in, features aglow with something Ginny could only interpret as giddy girlish delight. "Harry Potter brought you in. He was like a knight, holding you in his arms like that. He looked very worried too."

Ginny didn't breathe a word, shutting out the nurse's voice as she prattled on about how her family had nearly tore down the Hospital to see her. "Was there anyone else?" asked Ginny, the terseness of her voice surprising her.

The nurse sobered a little, tilting her head. "There was this other man. Odd chap, didn't want to leave his name. He gave me something for you." Ginny could have slammed her head against walls. Someone left something for her and no one thought of telling her. All people ever remembered was Harry Potter saving her once again.

The nurse rummaged through her pockets for a moment before withdrawing a slightly crumpled envelope and handing it to Ginny. The young redhead took the envelope, her fingers caressing the soft thick velum for a brief moment. Though crumpled, the material still reeked of high quality. Ginny slit the simple wax seal with her nail and pulled a plain rectangle of off-white velum from it. On it were only a few words, written in an elegant slanted script.

_16__th__ December:__; __4 p.m._

_Avebury Manor, Wilshire _

_Bring your résumé_

Ginny flipped the note over several times, looking for something else that might have been written there but found nothing. Without her noticing, the nurse had moved next to her and had read over her shoulder. For some reason, it annoyed the youngest Weasley that the nurse should look more disappointed that she.

"So…it's just a note for a job interview?" she asked, voice dropping.

Ginny kept herself from rolling her eyes and focused on the note instead. "The sixteenth… that's tomorrow right?" she mused aloud.

The nurse beamed, fluffing Ginny's pillows with the air of one who does it way too often for the attention to be genuine. "You'll be set to go as soon as I get the doctor to sign the release forms."

For the first time since she woke up, Ginny smiled genuinely at the nurse, leaning back into her pillows with a soft, satisfied sigh. "Thank you."

Looking at the ceiling, the young redhead pondered the recent events, fingers unconsciously caressing the thick velum of the envelope.

A manor in Wiltshire. Why did that sound so familiar?

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><p>*.*.*<p>

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><p>A.N. Hello all, I hope you're enjoying this fic. Please let me know if you have any question, of any specific thoughts about this new fanfiction. Special thanks to Jedi Tess, who is an awesome as ever.<p>

R&R

Love you all

Dran'


	4. Chapter 4: Disposing of the Dead

**Disclaimer: The author of this fan fiction does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the original characters of the Harry Potter series belong to their original creator J.K.R.**

Heartless

_By: Dranius_

_Chapter 4: Disposing of the Dead_

"_Avada Kedavra"_

Draco's muscles clenched, awakening him from his slumber. He stared at the ceiling, panting, trying to make sense of where he was.

A dream.

What a horrible dream.

His Dark Mark stung bitterly. Bleeding. He clenched his teeth and sat up, pushing the stifling covers away. His hair fell in a long mess over his shoulders and face, but Draco didn't bother pushing it away. He slid out of bed, putting his feet on the warm carpets of his country manor.

Rubbing his left forearm, he walked towards the window and threw it open, leaning out and taking a deep breath of the night air. The snow glistened in the moonlight.

Draco relaxed, feeling the Malfoy magics beating in the soil of his grounds, responding to his presence. His hands curled over the window sill, and he nearly smiled, lowering his head.

"Bellatrix is dead. Dead and gone."

Draco rand his fingers through his hair, forcing the long platinum locks to fall down his back.

"So many dead people…" he muttered, glancing at his bed without much conviction. He knew he would get little sleep tonight.

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><p>*.*.*.<p>

* * *

><p>"This is pretty."<p>

Draco cast Ashtoreth a surprised look, eyebrow arching. The woman was admiring the burial grounds with a awed expression. Standing next to her, Longbotton was doing his best to look like he belonged, but his eyes kept straying to the names on the tombstones surrounding them. Being encircled by dead Malfoys seemed to be as appealing to him as being around live ones, and bless his luck, today he was treated to both. Obviously, the thought panicked him to the point of queasiness.

The small group of a dozen people stood in the midst of the snowy slopes east of Avebury Ring. The sun was bright and the sky terribly blue. "It ought to be pretty… it _is _one of the Malfoy Burial Grounds," drawled Draco. "It's hell keeping the Muggles away. They seem to believe these old Rune Monoliths scattered around are historically significant to them."

Draco lovingly caressed the top spine one of the tombstones as he walked past, allowing his eyes to linger over the name engraved in the black marble. 'Severus Snape'. The young man looked ahead, running his hand carelessly through his long flaxen hair, as if such a simple action would brush the still painful memories out of his skull.

He could see the table and the body lying on top of it. There were only a few chairs waiting for the small assembly. It seemed their team mate has very few people in her life, and the blond was shocked to realized most of those present were from his staff. Draco felt his stomach twist a little. When he died, would there be so few people at his own funeral? Looking around him, he realized there would probably be less.

The blond took a seat closely followed by his team. They all looked uneasy. Chancey looked somewhat paler than usual, and hadn't said a word past 'hi'. Sammeth's features were drawn in a hard, emotionless mask. Draco thought he saw guilt in there for a short moment, but then it was gone. A young man sent by the Ministry performed the ceremony. It was short and simple. At last, he motioned for Draco to stand.

The blond walked to the head on the table were the body lay, and rested his hands on the cold stone on either side of the dead woman's head. His eyes lingered over her still features for a moment before they hardened with determination. Draco felt the magic of his grounds pulsating beneath his feet. He called, and it came to him with the eagerness of a faithful dog.

He whispered a single word of power to it and it obeyed. Draco stepped away from the table as it sank into the ground, the soil reaching up and covering the body like a rising tide. In its stead, a tombstone rose from the earth and flowers blossomed, splashing impossible color over the immaculate snow.

Draco felt his mother's hand rest on his shoulder. He shared a small smile with her before stepping away to thank the few people in attendance.

"Or course, you are all welcome to stay to lunch with us at Avebury Manor before you depart," Narcissa added. Draco kept himself from reminding his mother that Avebury was his manor, and they he didn't quite take to her interfering. Her small smile turned into a secret smirk only he could detect, and he knew she was annoying him on purpose.

Draco kept himself from rolling his eyes, figuring this was a newfound tactic in Narcissa Malfoy's guerilla campaign for him to get a wife. Obviously, dead people were not a valuable excuse for a momentary truce. "Indeed, I would be honored," he said mechanically, looking brazenly at his mother.

He should have known today would be a bad day. Nearly treading in dead hedgehog first thing in the morning was the worst kind of omen Draco could think of. Then the burial and next… Draco kept himself from groaning aloud while he led the small party back towards the imposing manor. _Job interviews._

In the back of his mind, a small voice whispered that maybe today wouldn't be a complete waste of his time. Draco ignored it, choosing instead to enlighten his guests on the history of his country home.

The manor stood proud and elegant, all in rugged gray stone, numerous windows made of small glass squares glittering in the sun. Half a dozen chimneys jutted from the slanted snow covered rooftops and ivy slowly conquered the west walls.

Unlike Malfoy Manor, Avebury had a cozy air about it that made one feel at ease and yet remained elegant in that grand way Draco adored. It was furnished with thick carpets and rich wood. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings.

The ornamentation was a subtle blend of classic and baroque that betrayed Draco's taste for finery, and his knowledge of what was practical and what was not. The house had clearly been designed to be both comfortable and impressive.

As usual, the house-elves had outdone themselves.

Even though only his team had chosen to stay and enjoy lunch at the manor, the elves had prepared some of the tastiest food Draco had eaten in months. Food he could tell with complete confidence contained no traces of rodent meat in it. He cast a mocking glance at Ashtoreth, who wasted no time at glaring at him, wordlessly daring him to criticize her infamous rat stew out loud.

Wine was consumed and desert was mainly made of chocolate.** I**t was in a fairly cheerful mood that Draco welcomed Mr. McGee in the parlor. McGee greeted Draco's mother first, exchanging rapid hushed words with her, before she stood and excused herself from Avebury Manor for the day.

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><p>*.*.*.<p>

* * *

><p>A pleased smile graced McGee's chubby features as he greeted the team he had put together. Draco observed him in fascination. The blond could never quite get over how spherical the man was. McGee shifted his weight and bent his tiny legs in rhythm, creating a precarious bobbing motion some might call walking. The blond couldn't help but think that that body was made for rolling, not bobbing around, and was waiting for one of those tiny legs to finally snap under the pressure.<p>

Regardless of his likeness to a small planet, McGee was incredibly competent at finding outstanding people to fill in for any job the Malfoy family had ever needed done.

"It is becoming increasingly difficult to find people willing to fill in a Hex position. There are very few applicants. I set up the interviews in two parts. First, I have a practical test ready for the applicants. Then I propose we interview those who have succeeded." The man gave a jolly little bow that seriously threatened his center of gravity. "Shall we go? Please follow me, the practical test will take place on the grounds."

Draco flicked his wand, his coat soaring towards him. He slipped it on, and pulled his long hair into a hasty braid to keep it out of his face. He watched with slight distaste as Chancey summoned a coat the colour of cat vomit.

They set off, walking out the back door and treading down the path towards the back of the grounds. Ashtoreth skipped on his right, singing to herself a song that made no sense to him**:** "We're off the see the wizard..." Sammeth sharply whacked her over the head. "Look professional."

Draco rubbed his temples and moved away from the now squabbling duo. "Children..." he muttered to himself. A sixth sense told him to duck, helping him narrowly avoid the snow ball. He turned around, eyes narrowing to slits, and watched with a certain amount of satisfaction as Ashtoreth dropped a snowball.

"Do try to act like adults for the next couple of hours. I'd like to give the illusion that we are trained professionals and not pettifogging teenagers."

Ashtoreth grinned, revealing too many white teeth and dimples. "Yes boss."

Draco watched her with sharp eyes while she tugged on one of her colourful dreadlocks and tried to look innocent. "Right." he mouthed, arching a mocking eyebrow at her.

Mr. McGee politely cleared his throat, drawing their attention. He had led them to a small clearing lined with high hedges. Immaculate snow blanketed the ground. Draco repressed a shiver.

"Please wait below this tree while I gather the applicants. The creatures they shall be challenged with will come through this alley," announced McGee, pointing at a path on their right that disappeared in the darkness of a forest.

"Gloomy..." muttered Ashtoreth. Draco rolled his eyes before his attention was once again captivated by McGee's waddling. The man challenged gravity.

Draco rested his back against the tree, settling down for what usually resolved itself into about fifteen minutes worth of screaming and havoc.

His eyes wondered back to the path the round man had borrowed and raised his eyebrow in mild interest when people stumbled into the snowy field. All of them looked rather confused. He took the time to observe each contestant with a critical eye.

There were nine people present that day. He immediately noticed a leggy blond that was presently looking more ill at ease than the others. Her boots were ruined and the dress she'd chosen to wear was not designed for running around in the snow. She caught his eye and blushed. Draco looked away, grinding his teeth a little.

At each interview a woman with a crush on him would show up. It was embarrassing. He was incessantly teased for it.

"Oh looky there," muttered Sammeth in his ear. The mockery in the older man's voice made Draco cringe. Next to him, Chancey hid a grin and Ashtoreth cackled.

"She's a pretty one," purred the Sammeth.

"Please hurry up and die," answered Draco forcing an icy smile over his features, looking anywhere but at the blond woman. He watched Mr McGee line the contestant up and explain to them what would happen. A flash of red caught his eye and he nearly grinned. Unlike the others, she didn't draw her wand but withdrew what he recognised as cigarette pack from her pocket. Her hair was tied up in an elegantly loose chignon, as if she'd got bored or careless halfway through her morning routine. She was wearing a tan leather coat with soft cream fur round the edges. The woman who'd wrecked havoc against the Death Eaters.

None the less, the blond noticed Sammeth wince. "Seriously?" muttered Chancey, shocked by the arrogance of such an action. Draco himself couldn't make up his mind. He was rather averse to smoking.

Following the war, Granger had made a name (and a huge fortune) for herself by flooding the wizard market with Muggle products. Draco himself had developed a secret love for vodka and caviar. Other people had obviously preferred a different method to satisfy their soft spot.

Mr. McGee clapped his hands enthusiastically at the group and tottered towards their tree at high speed. He winked at Draco, who didn't feel too enthused by his cheerfulness. Instead he chose to stare at the contestants, feeling his eyes stray towards the redhead. Something made his stomach clench. He felt his magic stir like a restless animal: Draco was curious.

McGee raised his wand and shot a blast of green sparks in the air. In the forest, the noise of something heavy and metallic falling filtered through the trees, closely followed by a loud roar.

"What did you bring this time ?" asked Ashtoreth, shifting from foot to foot and rubbing her arms for warmth.

"Watch and see Miss Olenga" answered the chubby man with a grin that made him look more than a little devious.

With a blast of sparks, the creature burst from the forest. Over ten foot long, it resembled a blend of giant scorpion and elongated crab. Draco immediately recognised it as a Blast-Ended Skrewt and felt his toes curl in disgust. To his left, McGee giggled. Draco shook his head in disbelief. He didn't dare ask how or where his employee came up with his devious schemes.

"Tell me you have a backup plan in case the creatures get out of control..." hissed Sammeth, drawing his wand and taking a step back. "I'm a curse breaker, not a-"

The creature reared up with an impressive bellow, cutting Sammeth off. All the competitors took their stances, some calling magical weapons to themselves, others drawing their wands and casting shields.

The air rippled with their magic and fear. Amidst the panic and the sudden revelation that this test could be fatal, the redhead kept catching his eye.

She looked unimpressed by the creature and was plucking a cigarette from the 'Black Dragon' brand pack with her lips. She elegantly sidestepped one of the people the beast had downed and lit her cigarette with a flick of her wrist. Draco caught the glint of a piece of metal between her fingers, but could not tell what it was.

As last, the woman raised her eyes, seeming to finally take notice of the beast standing before her. She did not look happy. Draco had the feeling she felt rather insulted by the challenge. The cherry of her cigarette flared an impossibly red color. He felt her magic spike, felt his magic stir in trepidation, answering some silent call Draco couldn't quite grasp.

The deflagration that followed blew the creature off its' numerous legs.

Draco watched as fire burst from the tip of the cigarette, consuming it completely and took the shape of a phoenix. Draco stiffened, feeling the magic in the air getting sucked towards the elemental creation. His magic _snarled_. His left hand moved to cover his heart in an attempt to steady the force.

The redhead mouthed something and the fire creation swooped down on her enemy. Ashtorel startled him by clearing her throat. She'd sidled next to him, and she too was watching the redhead. "I see she's caught your eye. Quite flamboyant isn't she? I used to work with her back when I was with the mercenaries. Then I met her again over a New Year celebration Neville threw with his old schoolmates."

She absently began playing with the tips of her dreadlocks, dark lips twisted in a curious half smile. "She's good. But she's reckless. Actually, I'm surprised she applied here. She's not a team person."

Draco smirked, feeling a certain degree of pride swell in his chest.

"I'm the one who got her to come. She's the one who faced the attack in Diagon Alley two days ago. Not knowing what was happening I apparated in. Luckily the attack was already over. She was the only one left standing. She was…" Draco searched for the right word, drawing little pictures in the air with the tips of his fingers. "…on fire."

He didn't mention how his magic had reacted. How he'd felt her magic calling to him. He didn't mention the spark that had escaped his control. How complete he'd felt for that short second. He didn't mention the way her magic had fizzled out when her spell hit his skin. He didn't mention kneeling next to her and gathering her in his arms to check her vitals, nor did he mention the visceral fear that had froze his very core and constricted his breathing. He didn't mention the unexplainable anger he'd felt when Potter her taken her from his arms and apparated away.

The dark woman smiled, obviously recalling fond memories. "Can you spot anyone else who seems competent?" he asked, forcing his eyes away from the redhead. He ignored this nagging feeling that we was missing something.

"All of them are trying their best, and the red head is obviously the one that caught all our attentions. But overall, none of them are trying to work as a team," grumbled Sammeth, ice blue eyes staring at the contestants ruefully.

Chancey sighed, looking a little bored by now. The Skrewt suddenly escaped the flaming phoenix and attacked the nearest person. The blond woman who'd been eyeing Draco. She escaped getting skewered and fell back in the snow with a scream. The next moment, the beast was on her, rearing back for the kill.

The fire phoenix hit the beast's underside with force, piecing right through the softer carapace with a wet cracking sound. Grey and pink guts began spilling over the snow. Draco watched the redhead lower her hands and reach for her wand, walking towards the toppling beast.

"Impedimenta!"

The jinx made the beast fall backwards, the great thud muffled by the thick snow. The beast lay still, obviously vanquished.

"She's also famous for her strong protective streak… she's incredibly loyal." muttered Ashtoreth.

Again, Draco felt as if he was missing something. He sighed, watching the red-head help the blond up and begin to thoughtfully berate her. McGee made his way towards the contestants to hurry them out of the cold and brief them on the rest of the interview.

It was only after they had all walked back to the manor and seated themselves in the study, that Draco thought of asking a question he should have asked sooner.

"Since you know her, what's her name?"

Ashtoreth smirked, watching him with interest. "I thought you'd know, since you went to school with her and all… right, ferret-brat?"

It all came rushing back to him, memories from his fifth year.

...

_Draco raced down the hall, hot of the girl's heels. He'd catch her, filthy blood traitor. He rounded a corner and something hit him square in the chest, making his fall back with a loud grunt._

_He looked up only to stare at a wand point. Ginny Weasley was standing over him, and she was cackling , giving him a look he didn't feel comfortable with._

"_You've no idea how long I've waited for this, ferret-brat. And I promise once I'm done with you, you'll never be able to look at me twice without shivering in fear." _

_She grinned, raised her wand..and went very still. Her eyes rolled back and she collapsed, revealing Pansy holding her wand aloft and looking smug._

_...  
><em>

Draco felt himself pale, and shivered.

Of course. Red hair. Fire. Temper. Loyal. Brave.

Obvious insanity.

_Potter._

"The barmy she-weasel!"

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><p>TBC...<p>

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><p><strong>Authors Note:<strong>

Avebury is a Real Manor.

Avebury is indeed at the center of a pentagram. See "Avebury Pentagram" on google.


	5. Chapter 5: Cooperating without the Dead

**Disclaimer: The author of this fan fiction does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the original characters of the Harry Potter series belong to their original creator J.K.R.**

**Authors note: I'd like the thank Jedi Tess of Gryffindor for being my awesome Beta and helping me through this story. Thank you to all those who reviewed, added my story to their favorites and to their alerts. You guys ROCK. **

Heartless

_By: Dranius_

_Chapter 5: Cooperating without the Dead_

"I was not expecting this."

"Well, you did show up for this job interview with a piece of parchment for only prompt. What did you expect?"

"Not you."

"Really now…"

She glanced up, but the cold eyes staring at her silenced her voice. Mercury. She knew those eyes.

Something coiled in her blood, stirring parts of her she didn't know of. The tips of her fingers prickled, and the hair at the base of her neck stood on end. Something familiar in the air made her toes curl.

His eyes were piecing right through her while he spoke. "Still. I am glad you came, Miss Weasley." His voice was liquid ice to her senses, chilling her to the bone.

At some point in time, the Malfoy brat had turned into a man. His features had filled out, losing the stretched stick-thin appearance his growth spurt had given him. For starters, his jaw had squared out. He looked a lot like his father, with his long flaxen hair, but there was a certain softness around his eyes that he had inherited from his mother.

His lips were chiseled, and presently curved into a sardonic little smirk that made Ginny want to slap him.

She licked her lips, hands curling around the armrests of her chair. Ginny did not like being uneasy. She leaned back, tilting her head on the side lazily. "Mister Malfoy…" she acknowledged, almost purring the words, coating them thickly in irony. She arched her eyebrow, pushing her feelings aside.

She saw Ashtorel hide a smile, sharing a glance with the young man next to her. "Let me introduce the team properly." said Draco. "Ladies first… Ashtorel, our scout. I believe you are familiar with her already. Sammeth, our team leader and curse breaker. Chancey his apprentice. And… yours truly."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him, impatient to know where all this was heading. McGee had told her the team needed a hex, but nothing else had been disclosed, much to her frustration.

Some might think she'd already know everything about the situation, since Ashtoreth was part of her circle of close friends, but the American had never disclosed anything about her job, repelling all the questions aimed at her with the iron shield of professional secrecy.

"It's a hit team," Ginny commented, eyeing the Curse Breaker with interest. She remembered her brother mentioning a man named Sammeth. Very talented. She also knew from past experience that Ashtoreth was one of the best in her specialization.

Once again, she saw Draco's eyes gleam with appraisal, and a small part of her couldn't help but feel flattered. "Precisely. We hunt artifacts. They used to belong to my family before they were stolen from me by the Death Eaters. Some of those artifacts are dangerous and must be destroyed. For the safety of the new wizarding world we are trying to build, they must be found and disposed of as fast as possible, as per Ministry requirement. We can't possibly go against powerful dark magic objects without a powerful hex to protect us."

Ginny barely contained her smirk. She leaned forwards in her chair, resting her elbows on the edge of the interview table, meeting the blonds' gaze easily. She felt her heartbeat increase. "Be honest with me, if you can… Who are we protecting Mister Malfoy, your interests, or the new wizarding world?"

She watched him glance at her over his glasses, eyes darkening to a stormy gray. "I like to think we are killing two birds with one stone. But allow me to remind you, this is not my trial Miss Weasley, it's your job interview. I believe you should know this, since you were present when the actual event took place."

"A glorious moment for all us Weasleys, as I recall," she hissed, rising to his unspoken challenge.

They stared at each other for a moment, deep amber hatefully tearing into platinum, before relaxing back into their chairs, allowing things to settle down.

"I know you're qualified Miss Weasley, and I'm convinced you could bring a lot to our team," said Sammeth, startling Ginny when he spoke for the first time. "I understand you have a history with Draco, but I need to know if you're interested enough in the position to get over your resentment. Because if you are, the job is yours."

"We leave for a few weeks at a time most often, and return home for an equal amount of time after the mission is over. Though we might be leaving for as long as a month at some point, because we've tracked down Death Eater activity in the Russian tundra, and the borders of Asia," said Ashtorel, flipping through a small notebook.

Draco smirked. Ginny found herself staring at him wearily as he pushed a paper across the table at her. She glanced down at it and frowned a little. Those were inhuman amounts of money.

"To get into administrative details, we are the security division of Malfoy Corporations. You'll get a bonus equal to twenty days' pay upon getting hired," said Draco, pointing at one of the number on the paper, "should anything happen to you, all your medical fees will be taken care of my Malfoy Corp. Should you die, the person you choose will receive financial compensation." He said, pointing at another series of numbers that nearly made Ginny's jaw drop. "And you get a bonus after each artifact properly retrieved and destroyed."

Ginny glanced up from the paper, staring at Malfoy long and hard. Did she have a choice? Could she… could she really work with him? The memory of a boy dragging her to Umbridge on several occasions came to mind. Could she trust him?

"A hex is responsible for the lives of the people in her team, and her life depends on the trust she has in them," she said softly.

Ginny looked in Draco's eyes. All she saw was outmost arrogance, certainty that she would accept because of how much money he waved in her face. But what made her resolve steadfast, was the emptiness she saw there. They were the eyes of the boy she'd known in Hogwarts. Smarter, yes. Wiser, yes… But cold and unfeeling. Void of anything human.

"I'm going to have to decline your generous offer," said Ginny, very softly, "Please forgive me, but I trust Malfoy about as far as I can throw him. And I know that could be fateful to us all."

She felt her guts clench, something in her rebelling as she stood. The job was interesting. It finally allowed her back into the action, without having to sell her soul to a Ministry she didn't trust.

With a sinking feeling, Ginny realized she had somehow managed to ignore her serious trust issues so far. She pushed the thought away, reasoning that she would deal later. Hermione should have a book or two she could borrow.

Ashtoreth stood, rushing after Ginny who was well on her way out. "Hey Gin'!" Ashtoreth's hand wrapped around Ginny's shoulder, the gentle pressure making the redhead slow. She frowned tiredly at her friend.

"Listen, please don't take this wrong; but I don't see anything human about that git. I can't work for him. Nothing about him shows me I can trust him. He's a Malfoy. He'd Draco Malfoy, the boy who made my school years a living hell. He's the one with a dark mark. Part of those who killed my brother. "

Ginny watched Ashtoreth wince. "How is this about the war again Ginny? It's been years. People change. I mean, it was hard for all of you. All of you. He was only a _kid_ back then too, Red."

The use of her old nickname back from her mercenary days made Ginny's eyes soften. She stopped in front of the main doors, turning to face her friend fully. "I've seen nothing in him that has changed, Ash. It's the same old incoherent feeling I got back in school. And then some more. Knowing what he was, and hating him, because the only reason he is still living in modern society, is because he failed to kill Albus Dumbledor. I just… I can't."

Ashtoreth sighed and shrugged in defeat, making the bells that were tied to the tips of her dreadlocks that day jingle merrily. "I get you. But please… think about it some more?"

Ginny watched her friend smile at her encouragingly before engulfing her in a tight hug. "By the way, I never got the chance to tell you, but I'm sorry about you an Potter."

All feeling of warmth vanished from Ginny's stomach instantly. She stood with sudden wooden rigidity in her friend's hug. "It was not necessary. Believe me."

Ginny was rapidly released by her friend, who grinned almost shyly. "You know me. I'm just saying that if you'd like to get pissed, and go throw eggs and toilet paper at his house, well, I'm here."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Listen, I'll owl you and we can have some _tea _soon. I'd rather not talk about my love life, or rather, about its' brutal crucifixion in a rather crowded restaurant, in front of my worst enemy's front door. Especially after I refused to work for him."

Ginny smirked and with a slight hand gesture at Ashtoreth, stepped out of the front door and marched towards the apparition point. She had better not dilly dally since she had an appointment for a job at Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions. Ginny shut her eyes, sharply reaching for a cigarette and trying to repress a shudder.

Cosmetics.

_Just her thing._

* * *

><p>The very next day, Ashtoreth's black eyes twinkled at Ginny over the edge of her teacup.<p>

"Pardon me, what did you do?" asked Hermione, nearly dropping the teapot in the process of pouring Luna a cup.

"My hearing abilities must be impaired, because I do believe Ashtoreth just _sicked us on Ginny_," chuckled Luna, sinking her teeth in a cucumber sandwich.

Hermione raised her hand sharply, silencing Luna, who simply smirked in amusement. The woman tossed her bushy hair angrily and her eyes narrowed. Ginny groaned.

"Pack your bags…We're going on a guilt trip…"

"Don't you put up that attitude with me, Ginevra Weasley. You refused what sounds like your dream job to…well… I can't believe I'm saying this but…sell cosmetics." Hermione's eyebrows were so high they nearly disappeared in her hairline.

"Hermione, let me tell you that the field of cosmetics, offers a world of opportunities a young woman like myself could barely dream of," said Ginny, hoping she sounded convincing.

Ashtoreth snorted in her tea, earning herself a slightly affronted look from Hermione, and a mildly curious look from Luna, who helpfully mentioned Nargles inducing sudden snorting fits at most unbecoming moments.

Ginny simply raised her eyebrows, watching her friends. She barely felt the small smile that had crept over her lips. Her fingers curled around her tea cup, and a giggle escaped her lips when Hermione started tugging at the dark woman's dreadlocks, accusing them of being disease ridden.

"Don't think I forgot you!" snapped Hermione, poking Ginny between the eyes.

Ginny sighed, leaning back in her chair, and setting her cup down on the table. "Pushy, pushy, pushy! Fine woman! I'll tell you. Can I tell them who's the boss Ash? That should explain everything. "

Ashtoreth took the time to finish chewing her mouthful of carrot stick, before answering. "Sure, Red. Go ahead." Ginny watched with slight disgust as the woman then began defiling a platter of cream crackers and cheese.

"You always come back half wild from those trips…" Luna pointed out, delicately pulling the platter away from her. Hermione rolled her eyes, fingers tightening around her cup. "We'll deal with her horrible table manners later. Ginny. Spill."

"It was a job for Malfoy Corporations. More precisely, a job that entailed working with Draco Malfoy. Every day. Every hour or every day. For days on end. With the amazing bouncing ferret."

Luna grinned, feeding Crookshanks a piece of tuna sandwich, before feeding an unwelcome piece of information to the conversation. "Didn't you cave a crush in him in your sixth year?"

Ginny felt herself pale. Ashtoreth arched her eyebrows. Hermione smirked. Luna petted the cat.

_"No."_

"You _did._ I remember now. You used to stare at his ass a lot, even in fourth year," mused Hermione.

Ginny groaned, feeling the Great Blush of Mortification irradiate her features with its familiar scorching burn of Shame. She rested her elbows on the table and hid her face in her hands. "I did not. He was a bastard, collaborating with the Carrows. A bony bastard."

"Tell me more," cut in Ashtoreth, grinning like a demon. Luna grinned back.

"You know how Hogwarts was in our sixth year. Snape was headmaster, and the school had become a lot less welcoming. Draco was part of the student militia, and Ginny was leading the rebels with Neville. Ginny here, spent a year dueling Malfoy nearly every single day, getting a little more creative each time. What puzzles me the most, is that she barely ever got in trouble because of that."

"The barmy-she-weasel…"

Ginny nearly dropped her cup, glaring hotly at Ashtoreth, and Luna laughed out loud.

"Do not call me that," hissed Ginny.

Hermione bit her lip, trying to stifle her laughter. "This is priceless."

Ginny leaned back in her chair, her lips stretching to a derisive smile, running her fingers through her hair and watching her friends laugh at her expense. "I fucking hate you all."

Ginny relaxed in her chair, shaking her head. In moments like this, she could forget about the past, and live in the present. In those precious moment, life was good.

* * *

><p>Ginny light her evening cigarette, sitting on the railing of the living room balcony; wrapped up tightly in a throw cover. Ashtoreth had left a couple of hours ago. Hermione and Luna were watching 'telewizion', Hermione's latest muggle turned wizard product.<p>

She'd join them in a few minutes, but for the moment, she was enjoying the night air. She exhaled softly, watching the irregular rooftops of Diagon alley splayed before her.

The doorbell rang, making Ginny break out of her reverie. She frowned when it rang several more times, accompanied with an urgent pounding of the door.

Ginny crushed her cigarette, extirpated herself from the cover as she drew her wand, and walked indoors. She frowned at Hermione and Luna, who'd turned the TW off. Both girls looked as confused as her.

She raised her wand and walked in the hall, followed by her friends. More knocking. And a voice, distorted through the wood. "Weasley! Weasley, open the door!"

Ginny pointed her wand at the wooden panel, the tip glowing a deep red. She whispered a spell, feeling her magic travel down her arm and hit the door. The grain blurred and became transparent. Ginny nearly dropped her wand in surprise when she saw who stood in the other side.

Draco Malfoy was standing on her doorstep, pounding at her front door with a tightly fisted hand. He was panting, and his long hair looked rumpled, as if he'd been threading his fingers through it repeatedly. He looked paler that that morning. "Weasley!"

Ginny cast her flat mates a questioning look. Hermione shrugged, obviously as confused as Ginny. Luna rolled her eyes and left. A second later, the telewizion was back on.

"Finite," whispered Ginny, flicking her wand. She shared one last look with Hermione, before sliding her finger down the middle of the door. A shiver ran up her arm as the spells and charms she'd used to protect the flat recognized their master, and returned to their dormant state. The lock clicked softly, and she opened the door.

"Malfoy. " She folded her arms, staring at the man. She hated having to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. She never remembered him towering over her like that, back in Hogwarts.

Malfoy's eyes lingered on her wand, but he still barely skipped a beat before pushing past her, into her flat. His eyes fell on Hermione, and his mouth shaped a small "Oh."

Ginny groaned, shutting the door in his back, knowing already that the bastard would not leave before he'd said his piece. She bit her lip, frowning a little as she shut the door behind him. He had stopped right next to her and raised his hands as if to grasp your shoulders, but snatched them away at the last second, as if catching himself.

His mercury eyes flickered once again over Hermione. A frown creased his brow.

"Granger. I didn't know you lived here." Ginny watched him try to gather himself. His eyes caught hers'. They held a sheen that wasn't entirely healthy.

Ginny frowned. Something was off. Her fingers tightened over wand.

"I didn't know you knew where Ginny lived," deadpanned Hermione.

"It was on the resume. But that's not important. Weasley. Kitchen. Now. Granger? Pleasure seeing you again," said the man, rapidly grabbing Ginny's wrist and dragging her through the apartment. She raised her wand, a curse already warming her tongue, but the nearly pleading look he shot over his shoulder made her lower her weapon.

"You're mad as a bag of ferrets, Malfoy." Ginny snatched her wrist away, massaging the prickling sensation away from it, halting the Malfoy in his steps.

"Ginny…?" ventured Hermione, flicking her wand behind Malfoy's back significantly. Ginny shook her head, waving her friends troubled expression away. "I can deal with him. Don't worry."

With a short nod, Hermione vanished in the living room. Ginny looked back at Malfoy, lips set in a thin line. She stepped passed him and into the kitchen, waving him in after her.

He stepped in the small kitchen and closed the door behind him. His tall frame clad in black cashmere looked incredibly out of place in the family kitchen, with its' dusty white cupboards and cheery yellow walls.

Ginny leaned against the counter and put her wand down on it.

The man visibly relaxed at the small gesture of trust, reaching out to toy with a refrigerator magnet while she folded her arms. He looked exhausted. Almost in pain.

"Weasley, I'm glad you let me in your home. I didn't want to come here so late in the first place, but I had to. I absolutely had to."

"Don't get your panties in a twist Malfoy, and tell me why you are here."

The Malfoys' eyes darkened and his lips thinned, anger and something else boiling just below the surface. He let go of the magnet, and turned his full attention on Ginny, who felt her breath suddenly come short.

" I need you on my team, Weasley."

Ginny frowned, shaking her head. She had not expected that. "We already went through this. It's a no."

"You don't understand!" snapped Draco, drawing himself as tall as he could. "I need you. I need you to trust me. Just this once. I need your help." He paused. Sweat was pearling over his temples.

He really did look sick.

"You want me to say I'm sorry for all the things that happened in Hogwarts? I will. You want more money? Not a problem. You want me to get on my knees? To beg? I will. But Weasley, you've got to help me."

His balance wavered slightly, and Ginny felt herself move forwards, catching his arm to steady him. "Malfoy, what the fuck…you're burning up." She couldn't keep the worry out of her voice and mentally berated herself for it. Show to weakness to the enemy.

"It's not important Weasley. It's a consequence. I used my own magic to trap and secure one of the artifacts we're hunting, after it killed our last hex. It managed to create holes through the defenses we'd put up to keep it trapped, and it has corrupted my magic. Now, it's following my trail, and doing its' best to kill me at a distance, thus setting itself free. It I let down, if it breaks free, I don't want to imagine the consequences."

The Malfoy looked down at her, and grabbed her shoulders, eyes piercing through hers. "You've got to help me. I can't go against that thing without a Hex."

Ginny opened her mouth, at a loss for words. His hands were making her flesh tingle. His fingers were digging in her shoulders almost painfully, but she could still tell they were trembling. Something in her stomach was trying to burst through her chest.

He leaned closer, heavily resting his weight on her, obviously preparing himself to say something that would mean a lot to both of them. His eyes were no longer and icy blue, but the color of wet granite.

"Please, Ginevra, I can't do this without you."


	6. Chapter 6: Dead Memories

**Disclaimer: The author of this fan fiction does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the original characters of the Harry Potter series belong to their original creator J.K.R.**

Heartless

_By: Dranius_

_Chapter 6: Dead Memories_

* * *

><p><em>Extracted from the Pensieve of Draco Malfoy.<br>_

_Peice of evidence n°145-34  
><em>

_Proriety of the Wezingamot in relation to case file n°54-67 "Court Hearing of Draco Malfoy"_

* * *

><p>"You'll pay for this!"<p>

Seventeen year old Draco ran down the dark halls of Hogwarts. In front of him, the dark figure if Ginny Weasley was getting closer.

Draco ducked, nearly crashing in a suit or armor and felt the heat of a spell graze his cheek. "Twenty points from Gryffindor," he growled, picking himself up and reaching out to grab the hem of her cloak.

Her laugh surprised him. It was not a pleasant laugh. It was sour and mocking, but it still made something in his chest quiver. "You seriously think I care about house points?"

He lurched forwards, finger curling around an expanse of dark material, and tugged sharply. She fell backwards with a tearing sound, swear words pouring from her mouth.

She was a fast one, but barely surprised Draco when she lugged at him, sharp nails reaching to gorge his eyes out. Draco laughed, easily snatching her wrists and holding her at a distance. "Easy girl. I don't want to hurt you…"

Bloodshot eyes stared at him through wild strands of hair. "Too bad I want to hurt you," she hissed. Draco nearly grinned, easily blocking a kick with his knee.

He was about to say something when movement at the end of the hall caught his eye. He twisted, sharply pulling the struggling girl to him, trapping her against his chest.

He could hear her inane yelling muffled by his robes, but ignored it, trapping her closer before she once again tried to maim his genitals.

Draco kept his eyes trained on the far end of the hall, watching a staircase shift. He swore, tapping the back of the girls head for silence.

Ginny must have sensed something was wrong, because she stilled.

Voices. Voices Draco knew well.

He looked left and right. He had little time.

A place to hide. A place to hide. A safe place to hide.

For the first time, he noticed a tapestry to his left. He dragged the girl with him, and lifted it, finding an alcove. He shoved her in and whispered a quick 'accio'. The remains of her cloak cleared from the middle of the hall to his hands.

"What the-"

"Please, Ginevra," he snapped, pulling the tapestry closed behind them. He tapped it with his wand, and began chanting curses beneath his breath. The space was cramped, already, he felt like the air was stale from their breathing.

"Malfoy." Her tone was impatient. And loud. Draco winced, hoping he'd been fast enough.

"Carrow twins."

The next thing Draco knew, she had drawn her wand and was whispering with him, her wand releasing protective wards and other spells he didn't know.

They both stilled, hearing footsteps near the tapestry.

Both students pressed against the back of the alcove, away from the entrance, holding their breath.

Draco felt Ginny shift and tore his eyes away from the tapestry. She was looking at him, her small mouth drawn in a thin, unhappy line. She mouthed words he could easily read.

"I hate you."

Draco arched an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He pointed at the tapestry. The message was clear, but Ginny didn't move. She glared at him.

With a shrug, Draco returned his attention to the tapestry. He knew they didn't have to whisper, and he knew their spells would keep them safe from the Carrows. After all, the twins had never been especially smart. It was their creativity when it came to torture that had brought them so far amongst the death eater ranks.

"So… how are the missing students…" asked Draco, keeping his eyes on the tapestry.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Draco nearly rolled his eyes. For such a smart witch, the Weasel-Girl was incredibly naïve at times. "Honestly Weasley. I'm the one who broke into the room of requirement last year while you were having your little secret meetings. What makes you think I couldn't do it again this year?"

He felt the redhead grow very still next to him, felt her eyes boring a hole in the back of his skull. Draco sighed again, closing his eyes and rubbing them through his eyelids tiredly. "Don't you go thinking I'm your friend, Weasley. But even I don't like what's happening to my school. There is a limit to any amount of undeserved torturing I can inflict in a single day, and I must admit the Carrows are drawing my patience pretty thin. I may despise mudbloods, but I am not a monster."

Ginny folded her arms, eyes narrowing dangerously. "If it bothers you so much, why don't you rebel?"

Draco scoffed, shaking his head. "You're such a Gryffindor. Don't bother you pretty little head about what I should or shouldn't do, and stick to your own little rebellion. "

Ginny growled in the back of her throat, and Draco barely had the time to catch her wrist before her hand connected with his cheek.

Too little food. To little sleep. Stress. Anger. Despair.

Draco felt his temper snap and roughly backed her in the back of the alcove, his hands curling around her tiny wrists.

"How dare you try to hit me, while all I do is try to save your ass every single day Merlin makes," hissed Draco, towering over Ginny. He looked into her golden eyes, and all he saw was defiance. He felt his chest tighten, suddenly finding it difficult to breath. "You're no idea of what you're doing. You don't know where you're putting your feet. You can't even begin to imagine, what those people are capable of."

"Save me? Fuck you Malfoy. You are those people," hissed Ginny.

Something in Draco broke. All his self control vanished, and he needed a release. All there was, was her. Her, and her red hair. Her, and her words. Her, and her hatred, her name, and all she stood for.

"I watch you work in the dark, fighting. To me, you are like a rabbit struggling against a noose. The Carrows would have soon found you and snapped you neck, if I had not weakened the thread."

Before he knew it, he had acted. Her lips burned against his, her small fists trapped against his chest. For the first time in years, Draco felt warmth spread through his body, felt his heat pound so hard it hurt. It was a ruthless kiss, a hungry, angry kiss. A desperate one.

He never realized she was kissing him back, joining him in an act of reckless abandon. Draco felt like he was drinking life through her lips. Breathing through her for the first time. All the weight vanished from his shoulders and for a moment, all there was in the world was this girl. This girl who was putting forth everything she was, matching up to him in every way. In that moment, Draco felt that he knew Ginny Weasley better than anyone ever had. Her anger, her fear, her frustrations and her hopes.

It took Draco a moment to realize the kiss had been broken. He was resting his forehead against hers, hands tightly gripping her upper arms, holding her up as much as he was keeping himself steady. He opened eyes he didn't remember closing.

The look in her eyes made him sharply step away, tearing himself away from her. Draco forced a sneer on his face, looking down at her arrogantly. "So that's what blood traitor tastes like…"

Ginny's features hardened instantly, her hand tightened around her wand.

For a split second, Draco considered telling her everything. Laying it all out at her feet. The oath. Voldemort. The mark. The plan. Snape. His life. His resolve to bear it all alone wavered. But he knew where his loyalties lay. He knew it. He ignored the doubt.

He pressed his hand against the tapestry, listening closely. The Carrows were long gone.

Draco pushed his feelings aside and smirked. "Thank you for the distraction barmy she-weasel… but I have better things to do than to cuddle with the likes of you."

Without looking back, Draco pushed past the tapestry, and strode into the deserted hallway.

He knew without a doubt that the Weasel would rather die, than squeak a word of what had happened between them.

Draco snatched his fingers away from his lips, repressing and annoyed scowl.

There would be no sentimentality. No regrets. No doubts.

He would not allow it.


	7. Chapter 7: Fighting alongside the Dead

**Disclaimer: The author of this fan fiction does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the original characters of the Harry Potter series belong to their original creator J.K.R.**

Heartless

_By: Dranius_

_Chapter 7: Fighting alongside the Dead_

"Please, Ginevra."

Ginny could feel the blush rising to her cheeks. And here is was again. That horrible feeling was back from long ago. Soon she would be sinking her elbows in slabs of butter.

She tore her eyes away from his and shoved Draco into a chair.

"…Weasley…"

"Shut up. I'm thinking."

Ginny turned her back to him and leaned against the counter. After a moment, she began rummaging through the potions cupboard, selecting ingredients she would need. She set the kettle to boil and began mixing.

She was brewing without thinking, meeting the first available problem with a solution she had no trouble giving.

She threw some newt eyes in the boiling water. She couldn't believe Malfoy. Throwing a "Please, Ginevra" on the table. As if she owed him something. As if they were friends. As if they had ever had anything in common except hatred.

And those feelings.

She crushed the mandrake teeth to powder and added that to the boiling water, stirring five times clockwise. Each time she stirred, her fingers drummed against the counter.

Ginny took the kettle off the heat and picked a mug from the cupboards, filling it with the potion. She added a bag of tea.

She glanced at Draco over her shoulder, eyes darkening, before returning her attention to what she was making. She grabbed a knife and pricked the tip of her finger, squeezing a few drops of blood in the mug, whispering a few words under her breath.

The words stung her tongue with their power. She felt some of her magic leave with her blood and infuse the potion. It's power pulsed to her heartbeat.

She turned around, holding the drink. Her stomach clenched. Malfoy was slumped over her kitchen table, pale as death. Asleep.

Ginny rested her hand on his shoulder, and gently shook him. He woke with a start, looking up at her sharply. Ginny saw a darkness in his eyes that she felt shouldn't belong there. It was gone a moment later. She shoved the steaming mug in his hands.

"Drink this. Our magics have meshed well in the past. This should help you fight off the infection. Follow me."

Ginny walked to the living room where Hermione and Luna were watching a movie called "Lord of the Rings". Ginny glanced at the screen and arched an eyebrow.

Luna dropped her spoon.

"Ye Shall Not Pass?"

Hermione laughed, shaking her head. Obviously, this was Luna's **first **time watching the movie, and Hermione was enjoying her reactions immensely. She sobered when Malfoy stepped besides Ginny.

"Sit here," snapped Ginny, pushing him in the couch between the two girls. Luna shoved the tub of triple chocolate ice-cream in his lap and handed him her spoon.

Draco looked beyond horrified, but accepted the spoon with an almost mechanic reflex. Luna seemed pleased enough and looked back at the screen.

Ginny leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest. She watched Draco share ice-cream with Luna, shaken by the absurdity of the situation. It was just unreal. She raked her fingers through her hair. Shut her eyes briefly.

He was asking for her help. For her to accept the job.

She already knew she didn't have a choice. Malfoy knew he wasn't giving her one. She had to follow him. She hated it. She hated him. Her eyes narrowed at Draco, then she swept out of the living room.

Ginny walked down the hall and into her bedroom. She sat on the edge of her bed, resting her elbows on her knees. The watchedthe tips of her hair nearly brush the floor.

"Ginny?"

Ginny looked up and shared a smile with Hermione. "Can I come in?"

Ginny nodded shortly, patting the bed next to her. Hermione sat and lightly bumped her shoulder against Ginny's. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm just… Malfoy brings up lots of memories. That, and he thinks he can just waltz in and demand I put my life on the line for him…"

Hermione's lips twisted into a half smile. "You always get personal whenever it's about Draco Malfoy. Try to think of it as… a bastard offering you your dream job?"

Ginny arched an eyebrow. "Are you saying I should help him?"

Hermione shook her head and sighed shortly. "I'm saying that this is an opportunity. After everything you've been through… Maybe Draco Malfoy in your life is what you need right now."

Ginny shared a look with Hermione and burst into laughter. "Yeah right. Malfoy," gasped Ginny, shaking her head.

"Yeah… can't believe he's fighting with Luna over a muggle movie in our living room." Hermione leaned back on her elbows, letting her head hang back to stare at the ceiling. "He looks different. Apart from the obvious zombie constitution. I mean…The Draco we knew from school would never have swallowed his pride."

Ginny stood from the bed and opened her closet, reaching for a box in the very back. She put it in the bed and opened it.

Both girls peered at the uniform that lay inside.

"Do you think I can trust him, Mio?"

Hermione grinned at Ginny. "I think you want to."

"I hate you. Go back to the living room. I think I hear serious scuffling. And make sure Malfoy drinks his potion."

"Yes, Ma'am!"

Ginny rolled her eyes and shut the door behind her friend.

She pulled a duffel bag from beneath her bed and began packing it. She retrieved potions from the kitchen, bandages from the bathroom. She filled her bag with clothes and crawled beneath the bed, looking for her tent.

Ginny could feel her heart beat faster. She was excited. She was… almost… happy. She sneezed, swearing she'd clean beneath her bed when she came back.

If she came back.

Her lips twisted into a wicked smile. She'd missed that feeling. Standing on the edge.

Ginny dragged the small pack from its hiding place, shrunk it, and put it in her bag. She sighed softly, eyeing her room for anything she might have forgotten.

Unable to think of anything else, she allowed herself a grin. She shed her clothes and reached in the box.

A few minutes later she was standing in front of a full length mirror, pulling the long crimson battle-robes over her figure. The uniform of the Blood Guard was intact. Black nundu fur sweater and trousers, reinforced with dragon leather. The shockingly red robes were made of the thick wool, and lined with dwarf made chainmail. It was a work of art as much as the most efficient of protections against minor spells and physical attacks.

Ginny fastened the clasps around her waist and pulled her boots on. She smiled at herself in the mirror while the plaited her hair.

She savored the bubbling excitement in her stomach. She ignored the fear. The doubts. The Malfoy sitting in her living room. Instead, she fastened her belt, slipping her wand in it securely.

Again, she reached in the back of her closet till her fingers closed around something familiar. Her magic sung as soon as her flesh came in contact with her sword. The weapon nearly vibrated to her touch, echoing her powers. She unsheathed the weapon, glad she'd kept it in mint condition. She took a moment to watch the glifs and symbols of light dance on the sold metal. "Hello baby…"

She sheathed the sword and attached it the her belt.

After one last look around, Ginny grabbed her bag and stepped out of her bed room.

"Hey, Fred**.** I wonder what kind of trouble I'm getting in this time," she muttered,** "**and I wonder what you'd have to say about it!"

She walked back into the living room in time to catch Hermione arguing with Draco.

"Granger, I will finish the potion, so stop—" Draco's voice trailed off when he saw Ginny. She dropped her bag and crossed her arms, feeling a little self conscious. Something…hungry in his eyes made her shiver.

She looked away, her hands slipping in her pockets. Ginny tried to focus her attention on a vase of flowers, hoping her blush would go unnoticed. She felt eleven again.

"The Crimson Guard uniform is even more impressive than I remembered," said Luna "Pretty stylish for a bunch of mercenaries."

Ginny shrugged. She cared little for her appearance. "I always thought a dark green would have been better."

Draco remained strangely silent, finishing the potion. He stood and vanished in the kitchen. The noise of running water told Ginny he was rinsing his mug out. She shared a look with Hermione, who seemed as surprised as she was.

"It seems I'll be leaving with Malfoy for now. I hope I'll be home soon though."

"Group hug!" yelled Luna, nearly throwing herself at Ginny. Hermione followed in tow. Ginny hugged her two best friends tightly, and they stayed huddled for a few moments. "I'll owl you guys soon."

"What do I tell your mom?"

Hermione's question made Ginny pause. She hung her head. She'd completely forgotten about warning her parents.

"You can owl them from Malfoy Manor," cut in Malfoy's smooth voice, "You have papers to sign while the rest of the team gets there."

Ginny arched an eyebrow. "You have time for paper work even though you nearly demolished my front door in the middle of the damn night?"

"What… would you risk your neck for a Malfoy… for free? No papers, no money, Weasley." She scowled at him, her hackles rising instantly. Irritating brat.

"I'll make time." Ginny glared at Draco. He had the guts to curl his lips at her while he picked up her bag.

"End all this sentimentality so we can leave, Weasley. Your sentimental farewells are making me nauseous."

Ginny rolled her eyes, squeezing both her friends one last time before stepping back. "I'll be back soon, girls."

Draco's arm suddenly slid around her waist, tugging her sharply against him, pressing her back against his chest. He leaned over her, resting his chin in the top of her head in a possessive manner that made Ginny want to tear his eyes out.

"I'll bring her back soon," said Draco, tightening his hold around her waist. The gut twisting sensation of side-along apparition interrupted anything rude she had to say.

They apparated with a jolt, Ginny clutching unto Draco's arm from fear of splinching.

"Are you fucking crazy?"

Draco chuckled, and Ginny found his mouth was dangerously close to her ear. She quickly stepped away, keeping down a shudder as goose bumps spread down her neck.

"I thought talking you through side-along would waste too much time." Draco set her bag on the floor next to the door. "We'll leave your bag here. You can get it back on our way out. Don't worry, the house elves won't touch anything. Follow me, there are more comfortable places than the apparition room to wait for the rest of the team."

Ginny frowned, following Draco deeper in the manor. This place was nothing like the previous Malfoy property she'd visited. She folded her arms over her chest, eyeing the pale faces staring at her from the painting hung to the walls. They were all disapproving glares, pale faces and blond hair. She heard several whispers, her family name being the only word she could recognize amidst the faint buzz. It was unnerving.

"This is my parent's manor. It's been in the family for generations. These, are my ancestors. The one of the right who looks particularly repulsed is my great-great-great uncle, Orion Malfoy, who began the famous feud that opposes our families. Please wave at him. I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

Ginny looked at the portrait with curiosity. An older replica of Draco stared down at her with cold black eyes. She shook her head and shot Draco a dirty look.

"Must you also be a jerk to the paintings?"

"I do my best." She could nearly taste his leer.

Once past the portrait, Ginny had gotten tired of staring that the unwelcoming Malfoy faces and decided to watch Draco's back instead. Her eyes strayed downwards and her lip twisted into a pleased little smile.

Ah… _yes_.

Seconds later, her gaze was back on the portraits, an embarrassed blush making her cheeks flame. How fucking old was she?

She followed Draco to what seemed to be his personal study judging by the papers that littered the desk on the far left of the room. On her right was a roaring fire, low table and an array of leather chairs. A steaming pot of tea and freshly baked scones complete with clotted cream and peach jam were set on the table.

Draco sank in a chair with a sigh and leaned over the tea pot, lifting the lid and eyeing the contents.

"Care for unidentified tea, Weasley?"

Ginny nodded, cautiously sitting in a chair, eyeing him curiously. "What sadistic little game are you playing, Malfoy?"

He had the gall to look surprised. "What do you mean?" he asked, pouring the tea. "Milk?"

Ginny shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose before casting the blond an angry glare. "Why are you so polite? Where are the barely veiled threats? The insults? The hexes and the violence? You didn't even comment on the robes clashing with my **hair, for** Merlin's sake!"

Draco's eyes darkened. She didn't see him move. One moment she was leaning towards him angrily, about to spring at him, the next, she was pinned back, a very pissed off Malfoy towering over her. He reached out, tangling her fingers in her hair, tugging at it gently, issuing a silent warning. His eyes roamed over her face as he leaned close, trapping her completely, making Ginny tremble. Any thoughts of anger and rebellion has slipped her mind.

"Would you rather I went back to my Hogwarts ways, Ginevra? I remember more… pleasant thingsthan just fighting."

His husky purr induced fleeting memories of dark corridors and secret kisses flashing through her memory.

Ginny couldn't answer, mesmerized by his heated glare. Her heart was beating rapidly, and something was urging her to…to… She licked her lips.

Her cheeks turned crimson. Draco sneered at her, and suddenly pulled away, leaving her feeling cold, ashamed and more that a little angry at herself.

"I'd rather you kept your fucking distance," she grumbled, though it sounded weak even to her own ears.

"Eat, or the house elves will be disappointed," he said coldly, standing up. Ginny eyed the pastries and gave in to her nervously grumbling stomach. She smeared cream and jam over a scone and dug her teeth in the pastry, taking out her anger where she could. Her eyes widened and she stared at the treat appreciatively, wondering if Draco has somehow found out peach jam was her favorite.

Noises of papers being shuffled made her glance towards the desk. Draco was stacking some papers distractedly, tearing open some envelopes. The silence was making her nervous.

"You wear glasses?" she blurted.

Draco glanced up at her, arching an eyebrow at her over his papers. "Only for reading." He put the papers down, watching her thoughtfully. "You know Weasley, you should quit fighting everything you see. The war is over. People have changed. Isn't it time you learned to trust people? Especially since you're going to marry Potter sooner or later, now that he's finally where he wants to be."

His thinly veiled contempt made Ginny scowl. It was in a tiny voice that she answered, watching the man through narrowed eyes

"Harry dumped me."

Ginny shielded herself behind her cup of tea, mentally berating herself on giving him the stick to beat her with. His silence unsettled her. She looked up from the golden depths of what tasted like peach blossom tea.

Draco was staring at her with another of his unreadable expressions, his eyes once again this unsettling shade of wet granite. He didn't say anything. Ginny sipped nervously for a while, nibbling on her snack, until Draco presented her with parchment and ink to write a letter to her parents.

They both worked in silence until Ginny finished writing her letter and sealed it. Draco rang a bell, summoning a house elf. Ginny's letter was entrusted to it for postage.

More silence, the crack of fire, this strange sensation she couldn't place, and Draco's frequent glances at her that she couldn't decipher. Ginny was getting jittery, fruitlessly trying to distract herself with the cutlery, so she spoke.

"When are the others arriving?"

Draco stood, bringing a stack of papers and gracefully stalking back to her. He sat down with an easy grace and handed her the papers and a pen. "Read and sign these. They should arrive shortly after you're done."

Ginny nodded, reading the papers carefully, she scrawled her spiky signatures over each page and handed the stack pack to Draco, who promptly stood up again and deposited them on top of his desk.

"I will return shortly, Weasley, I must get ready for our expedition. If you need anything feel free to ring the bell and a house elf will attend to your needs."

"Ginny."

"Pardon?"

Ginny sighed, barely believing she was doing this. "My name is Ginny. If we are to work together, you have might as well use it."

Draco's lips twisted in an almost grin, and his eyes sparkled. "Don't fret whileI'm gone Ginevra." With that, he swept out of the door, his dark robes billowing in his wake. Ginny still wondered if all that robe billowing the Slytherins pulled off was something Snape used to teach in their common room.

She leaned back in her chair, observing the expensive vases and rare magical artifacts put on display in the glass cases lining the room. She'd barely reached for her cup of tea when the doors burst open.

"Draco!" Ashtorel's eyes raked over the room and stopped on Ginny. A grin broke her worried frown. "_Ginny_!"

"Hey, Ash." Ginny stood and up accepted her friends' hug. The tall American stepped back and held her at arm length, eyeing her crimson garb. "It's been some time since I saw you battle ready. You think you can measure up?"

Ginny tilted her head and arched en eyebrow. "Those beads and feathers you insist on weaving through your hair must be damaging your brain, woman."

"Nowhere near. So you accepted Draco's offer after all. "

"Of course she did," interrupted a voice from the door. Draco grinned roguishly at both women, flanked on his left by a glowering Sammeth.

"Weasley… glad to have you."

Ginny smiled, holding her hand out and shaking the man's hand. His cold blue eyes swept over her gear and a sardonic grin stretched his features. "Crimson Guard. Your lot gave us Curse Breakers a fair bit of trouble in Egypt."

"Yes. I was part of the squad that was tracking Alecto Carrow in the Alexandria Necropolis. Dirty business."

Sammeth nodded, releasing her hand after a last squeeze. "Past is past."

Draco cleared his throat, attracting the squad's attention. "If you don't mind, we should get going. Time is of the essence."

Sammeth nodded. "Let's go, team."

They followed the tall man down the hall, Ginny bringing up the rear and eyeing the similar battle robes they all wore: midnight black in color, emblazoned with the Malfoy crest in stark white.

Ginny stepped in theapparition room and picked up her bag, watching the others gear up. "We might be under enemy magic as soon as we set foot on site. Since we don't know what we're about to step in, I expect you to be ready to ditch your pack as soon as we apparated and be ready to move swiftly."

"What about Chancey?" asked Ahtorel, shrugging her heavy pack over her right shoulder, drawing her wand in her left hand.

Sammeth shook his head. "I told him to stay home on this one." The tall man paused and pointed at the clock. "We apparate in 30 seconds."

Ginny heaved her bag over her shoulder and barely hand the time to draw her wand before Malfoy's arm snaked around her waist, drawing her against him. "You're apparating with me, Ginevra," he all but purred in her ear.

She nearly growled in response, but the feverish heat radiating from his skin stilled her violent instincts. "The potion is wearing off." She felt him nod in her hair and sighed angrily, feeling her magic stir restlessly in her blood. "Will you be okay?"

"I hardly have the choice," he said, before his arm tightened around her, and the sensation of side-along turned her guts inside-out.

As soon as the felt her feet touch ground she dropped her bag and raised her wand. In her back, she heard Draco groan and stumble away from her. Wretching noises followed. She ignored him and stepped forwards, reaching out with her magic.

The air felt thick and was sticky with power. Strange lights hung in mid-air, sickly greens and malignant purples. An unnatural darkness clung to the shadows as urghuly gusts of stale wind shook the dead trees.

Her eyes fells on the remnants of what had once been a confinement dome. It now stood weakly, patched with gaping holes, the one shimmering magic now dull and a sickly grey, corroded by dark magic. Leaking from the holes was a thick fog.

Ginny shivered and drew her sword.

"I can't detect anything. It's too messy," muttered Ash, rising from her crouching position, wand held in a white knuckled grip.

"We can do this," interrupted Draco's calm voice. He stepped next to Ginny, pale as death and shivering slightly, obviously shaken, but his silver eyes were calm, coldly observing the festering mass. She noticed he had not drawn his wand, but instead, held a jagged knife in his right hand.

Ginny took a deep breath, stilling her hands and her rapidly beating heart, watching the dark fog roll into itself, stirring unnaturally.

Silence.

Then, hell broke loose.


	8. Chapter 8 : Battling against the Dead

**Disclaimer: The author of this fan fiction does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the original characters of the Harry Potter series belong to their original creator J.K.R.**

Heartless

_By: Dranius_

_Chapter 8:Battling against the Dead_

"Incoming!"

Draco instinctively dropped, barely avoiding a bolt of lightning. He shuddered, feeling his magic being torn out of his body against his will, feeding the storm. He mustn't have moved swiftly enough because the next moment, he felt a warm body hovering over his, a strong hand wrapping around his shoulder and half dragging him off the ground. Around them, lightning struck madly.

The noise was deafening.

"Get behind me Malfoy," yelled Ginny, weaving a solid barrier with her wand. "Ash! I can't feel a goddamned thing but Malfoy magic. Be my eyes!"

"I'm blind here, girl! Sammeth?"

"We press forwards. Raise your wards high and strong. We're doing this old style."

Draco gathered his wits and looked around them, reaching out with his magic as theypressed forwards. They reached the fog.

It reeked of rotting flesh. Draco heard Ginny's breath hitch as they pressed forwards. The fog was thick and unnatural. Tasted foul. Made breathing hard. His throat burn. Draco pulled a bandana from his pocket and duplicated it with a flick of his wand. He tied one over his nose and mouth, relieved to find that it eased the nefarious feel of the fog, if only a little. Now if only he could find something to ease the burning sensation over his skin and eyes.

"Here," he said roughly, handing Ginevra the other bandana and standing guard while she attached it over her face.

He couldn't see three feet ahead of him, and he didn't like the noises coming through the fog.

Something snapped on his left. Grunted to his right. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw shadow moving, but when he looked closely, all he could see was rolling fog and further darkness.

"We're being surrounded," breathed Ginevra in his ear. He admired the calm front she was managing to put up, but the white knuckled grip she had on his arm gave away how tense she was.

He growled low in his throat, feeling his power draining with each and every heartbeat. He raised his hand and teased the magic in the air with the tips of his fingers, paling at the darkness it held.

"Whatever it is**…**it's not… alive."

Someone shrieked.

Draco's jaw clenched so hard something cracked. "Ashtorel!"

And suddenly, the magic was on fire, and Ginevra was its' burning heart. Her flaming sword drew an arc in the fog, tearing through the darkness briefly.

He caught a glimpse what was moving around them and felt his heart stop. Graying flesh, loosely hanging from bones in clumps of decay Runny eyes, egg-like in texture. Black teeth, gashing at the air hungrily. They used to have noses, but now, there was nothing but shallow holes in the middle of sunken faces, scenting the air like starved hounds.

"Inferi," breathed Draco.

"Malfoy?" Her voice was terse. He understood her question, and he was ready to keep up. Draco sheathed his wand and drew his sword. He ran his thumb over the blade, slicing it, smearing the metal with his blood. He closed his eyes and exhaled, calling unto what untainted power he could still reach.

Black flames ignited his sword. Ginevra looked up at him sharply, her eyes narrowing at the display of blood magic. Draco felt his lips twist into a feral grin.

"Burn, baby, burn."

He leapt ahead of her, raised his sword and brought it down on one of the skeletal hands that was trying to take his life. The black fire spread from the wound and devoured the possessed cadaver.

Draco instinctively flattened, avoiding a bolt of lightening. The ground split and rose. A hand on his back steadied him. Ginevra's breath was warm against his neck. Draco knew her flaming sword was keeping his back.

"Sammeth!" Draco listened intently, for something, anything that would answer his call. Only the labored breathing of the approaching inferi answered his call.

"Let's move," growled his Hex, leaving his back and leaping over the smoking gap. Draco moved behind her, slaying the inferi as he guided her closer to the heart of what was poisoning the air. Hungry mouths and empty eyes tracked them mercilessly.

Soon, they were back to back and breathing hard, battling against the inferi that were crowding them. They were barely moving anymore, and out of the corner of his eye, Draco could see a darker shadow in the mist.

The cottage where the Amplificator lay.

"Almost there," he ground out, slashing widely with his sword. Ginevra cursed, as the inferi climbed restlessly over the fallen.

And then they were gone. Draco stumbled over a low wall, tumbling across the cottages' small patio.

"Shit!" Draco let out a relieves breath of air: Ginny's nearby swearing reassured him. She was still well.

Without further thought, he raised his sword towards his enemy, expecting the feel the cold bones tearing into his flesh…but nothing came. The inferi here standing on the other side of small file of ruble that had once been a wall, their sunken faces staring at him hungrily.

The air was very still. Not a gist of wind bothered the rolling fog. The thunder had ceased. The calm before the storm. Draco stood, keeping his guard high, reaching out with his magic to sense any threat.

Too late.

"Stupefy."

On his left, Ginevra fell, her burning, cleansing power snuffed like a candle. Draco groaned and the poisonous magic infected him once again with full force.

The black flames wreathing his blade rose high and began devouring his hand. His own magic so tainted his blood rebelled.

Draco ignored all this.

His stomach had sunk somewhere past his heels, cold sweat slicked his skin. His heart stopped beating.

He was fourteen again, about ready to piss himself, about to puke from fear, trembling like a newborn pup. A coward once more.

A smirk curved her cruel lips. Her curls were tumbling over her shoulders in an un-kept mass. Her black eyes, regarding him with homicidal affection.

"My boy…" she purred.

Draco swallowed bile, doing his best to remain standing. His Dark Mark was on fire. He felt a thick, warm liquid run down the inside of his left forearm.

"Aunt Bella."

She giggled cheerfully, bounding towards him, easily knocking his sword from his slack fingers. She hugged him. The hideous parody of affection increased Draco's sense of dread.

"You're dead," he stated.

"Obviously not…" she purred, pinching his cheek sharply between her fingers. "What makes you say that, my beloved nephew?"

"I saw you die."

Bellatrix Lestrange threw her head back and laughed. Her breath reeked of death. "I can't die. The Dark Lord is my master… Have you not listened to what I taught you, Draco? The Dark Lord will make his followers immortal," she hissed in his ear, trailing her fingers over his cheek and down his neck. "You've grown so much… so much like your father…"

The next thing he knew, a cold tongue slithered over his mouth and chin. His aunt grinned, the errant folly in his eyes making the fine hair at the back of his neck rise. He only tensed further when her attention wavered from him and wondered over to the fallen Ginny.

"It's so nice of you to bring some friends to play! We can bring them to my Lord. He shall be pleased."

A flick of her wand had two familiar bodies hovering next to Ginevra's. A second flick had them all bound in tight ropes. Draco felt his heart clench. Sammeth was covered in way too much blood and Ashtorel was an unhealthy grey color.

He couldn't move when Bellatrix pulled away and skipped towards Ginevra, sinking her fingers in the vibrant red hair and twisting sharply. "Oh, my… a Weasley, Draco… Realy…?"

Draco couldn't hold back the warning growl when Bellatrix raised her wand, making the woman pause. She raised an eyebrow at him. Her eyes suddenly darkened with anger and she carelessly threw Ginevra to the ground.

"Did you have sex with her Draco?" Her screech made him cringe, his fingers trying to reach for his wand without her noticing. Bellatrix was far more powerful than him, and blood Magic would do nothing against someone of his own family. But he still had to try.

She stormed towards him and struck his cheek. Her fingers were as solid and cold as marble. The blow split skin. Draco stumbled back, but she was fast, and had already grabbed a fistful of his hair. "Did you?" She ground out.

Draco gazed into her black eyes defiantly, closing his mind to any attempts at legilimency**.**

The anger suddenly left her and she smiled, nearly purring as she rubbed her cheek against his. "No… no of course not… You wouldn't betray us again… You wouldn't do that to me…"

Draco's fingers finally reached his wand. He gripped it tightly. He tried not to tense. All he had to do was incapacitate the woman who was the cause of most his nightmares. Get her lecherous hands away from his flesh.

Protect his team.

Protect Ginevra.

The untainted Malfoy magic flushed through his veins at that thought, and he shoved his aunt away, roaring the fist curse he could think of.

"Sectumsempra!"

The spell cut deep. Draco stood gasping, watching dark liquid run from his Aunt's neck and stomach. She gasped, stumbling back, raising her hands to her face. "How dare you…" she hissed, her words dreadfully deformed. Bellatrix faced him, black eyes ablaze with madness. _"How dare you!"_

Draco stumbled back. Part of her face has been torn away, baring her teeth and part of her cranium. Flesh hung limply from the side of her face, reaching her collarbone, bleeding, and her right eye barely remained in its' socket.

Yet, she seemed unaffected. Save the anger.

"You dog. You dog! Dog! You'll remain a dog! Dog," she screeched, waving her wand. Her tantrum was deadly, curses flashed every which way. Draco dove for cover, but felt a spell hit him forcefully.

He groaned, pain seizing him as he tumbled against him fallen team . He tried to grab his wand but something was wrong. His body didn't respond the way it should.

"Dog! Now, watch me kill your friends," laughed hisaunt, raising her wand.

Draco tried to tell her to stop, but a strangled bark came from his throat. In that split second, he understood he was no longer in human form. He also realized that the blood on the ground was his.

Draco looked up at his worst nightmare defiantly. His heart clenched once, twice, and sped up, adrenaline kicking in. This was all he had. These people were all he had.

He refused to let his only friends die without doing his best to save them. But his muscles refused the respond. A wave of despair made his stomach clench. Bile gathered in the back of his throat.

No. No. This couldn't be happening. Not now.

Not after everything he'd done.

After how hard he'd worked.

He had friends.

No.

Dark spots started gathering in his visions, the dark magic pressing against his mind, the beginning of one of the violent panic attack he used the suffer from as a child beginning to surface.

A flash of light blinded Draco, his over sensitive eyes making him howl in pain.

"You will put your wand down, Bellatrix," intoned a man's voice, cutting through Draco's fear like a knife.

Draco tried to blink the darkness away from his eyes. He tried to breath. Just breath.

Who was it? He knew that tone. He knew that voice.

"You side with them?! So you're a traitor after all! Put that down."

"I'm afraid I can't do that Miss Lestrange… Good bye now."

The noise of breaking glass and an angry scream was all Draco could make out. Silence.

The air was clearing. The hollow noise of inferi collapsing and turning to ash made him jump nervously. The magic was cleansing itself.

He blinked furiously, trying to rub his eyes, but his body didn't articulate correctly. He wasn't sure he even had hands anymore.

The scent of potion ingredients and bitter chocolate filled his senses. He stilled, trapped in darkness, straining his remaining senses.

It was clearing, slowly clearing. Shadows. Shades of grey.

He could see a man moving, carelessly dropping a shattered mirror. Draco growled when he moved towards them.

"Silence yourself, Draco,**"** sneered the voice, "I believe you've done enough for today."

Draco instinctively stilled, the voice and smell stirring dear memories in the back of his mind. No. It couldn't be.

The shadow reached over to his friend. His skin prickled when the air flared with magic and the restraints were gone.

"Enervate."

Draco hear a feminin groan. Ginevra. The unknown man straightened.

"Don't waste your time following me, Draco. Stay out of this mess."

The telltale snap of disapparition announced the man's departure.

Ginevra cursed groggily, while Draco patiently waited for his vision to clear at last. Draco focused on his magic, flushing the darkness out of him best he could.

He tried to stand, but again, anatomic irregularities unsettled him. A sensation that sent him back to his fourth year and what he referred to as the 'ferret incident'. He felt his heart sink.

_Not a ferret. Please not a ferret._

Draco looked at himself the best he could, twisting his neck and body as much as he could without opening his wound further. He didn't like what he saw.

Ginevra stirred more, pushing herself up and clutching her head, obviously in pain. He watched her, waiting for her to come round enough to realize what was going on. She looked around her, first taking in the lack of immediate threat, the broken mirror and her unconscious team mates.

She frowned, looking around, till she looked directly at him, realization making her eyes widen.

"….Malfoy?"

Draco gave her a long suffering look.

"Shit."

Draco rolled his eyes. That woman had a way with words.

"I'll deal with you later," she muttered, moving over the fallen and waking them up after checking them for serious damage.

In the next five minutes, the situation had been assessed and Sammeth was in control.

"I'm amazed we got out of this without too much damage," growled Sammeth, crouching to analyze their mysterious helper's footprints. "We owe a lot to whoever helped us. So far, I'm guessing The **Amplificator **must have been warped by the overload of dark magic and gathered enough of it to create a tangible shape. Bellatrix Lestrange wasits' choice for some reason…"

"I wonder who destroyed the mirror…" muttered Ginny, staring at Draco questioningly. "It's too bad you can't talk, dog-boy."

She smirked at him mockingly, and somehow, he knew this story would be relayed for all twenty-something of brother's enjoyment.

Still, they had all tried to fix his shape, but had all failed miserably.

"The spell will fade with time, I'd wager," concluded Sammeth. "We'll send you back to Mrs Malfoy. She might think of something…"

Draco growled, shaking his head while Ashtorel treated his wound. No matter his shape, his glare must have remained lethal since Sammeth relented. "Or one of us could take you in till things go back to normal."

Draco watched them exchange worried looks. He decided to make the choice for them and dragged himself to a stand and limped heavily to Ginevra.

Grinevra stared at him balefully. "Seriously?"

Draco stared right back.

She tried a different intimidation technique: "It's Weasley Christmas this weekend, you know?"

Draco nearly quailed, but stood fast to his decision.

Sammeth had too many children, and Ashtorel had Neville Longbottom. He was choosing the lesser of three evils.

Ginevra sighed, but seemed to accept his decision after a few minutes of fussing he chose to ignore.

Some more squabbling later about how much him mother should know for the moment was interrupted when Ashtorel dared ask out loud what all were wondering.

"But really, this is the weirdest part. Why the hell would the mirror change you into a dog, Malfoy?"

Draco growled low and was startled when Ginevra's hand buried itself in the rough of his neck, tugging sharply, interrupting him.

"Maybe there is some justice in this world after all," mocked Ginny. Her grin was worth thousands of Galleon.

Draco chose to ignore her. He could tell she was relieved they were all in one piece, no matter the shape. All he could think about was the man who had saved them. Who was he? Why was he so familiar?

He barely dared think about the answer to those questions, and the implications the answer would bring.


	9. Bonus Chapter: When the Dark Lord Died

**Disclaimer: The author of this fan fiction does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the original characters of the Harry Potter series belong to their original creator J.K.R.**

Heartless

_By: Dranius_

_Bonus Chapter: What happened the day He Who Must Not Be Named died_

**Authors' Note: Here is a very short chapter I was not planning to post to begin with. A kind of behind the scenes, blast from the past moment that's not necessary to the story… but her, I was in the mood for something a little different. Warning though: this is rated M for a reason. Also, and other warning, this chapter was not reviewed by a Beta.I hope you enjoy it, and that this chapter will add a little bit of insight on Draco and Ginny's past…in otherwords: satisfying D/G content ahead!**

She stood over the heap of slightly squishy leftovers hat had once been Lord Voldemort. She smiled grimly. Around her, people were not cheering. There was too much to be done. So many dead people to burry.

It certainly didn't feel like a war had been won.

She had escaped from the clutches of her distraught family. She couldn't take her mother's tears anymore. She couldn't stand how calm her father's voice sounded. She couldn't stand the autistic silence George had immersed himself in. He had sat next to Fred, and every few minutes he would reach out and touch the corpse, as if hoping it would grow warm again. It had taken an hour for him to realize this was not one of Fred's bad jokes. It had taken another hour for him to stop his listless screaming. Then silence as trauma sank in.

Ginny stilled her trembling hands by clenching them tightly.

The war was over, but she didn't feel any better. There was no elated joy. No relief. If anything she felt worst.

Now there was nothing to do.

She felt trapped and useless.

A little bit dead.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of pale blond hair disappearing towards the boat house. She frowned.

Malfoy.

Her gut clenched. Instinct, curiosity…something took over. She followed him down the winding path that led to the lake and the small hut of wood and glass that had been built there.

Draco entered.

She waited a few minutes and crept in behind him. The scent of blood was strong. Suddenly it struck her: someone had told her this was where Snape had been killed.

She watched Draco slump against the wall. A strangled sound escaped his throat as he raised shaking hands to his face.

His fingertips touched his forehead as he pressed his palms against his eyes. He tried to get control over his breathing.

Ginny bit her lip and stepped into the light, making noise to make sure he knew someone was there. He jumped a little, his hand reaching for his wand, eyes wild. He noticed her, and relaxed.

"Draco…" She reached a trembling hand to his shoulder, but he lashed out, slapping it away.

"Nagini killed him. Right over there."

Ginny didn't really know what to answer. She wasn't even sure why she'd followed him. She looked as the dark bloodstains on the floor. She didn't think they would ever wash out. The strength in voice nearly startled her.

"Go away," sighed Draco. "I don't need your pity."

"You don't have to need me to want me." The words were past her lips before she realized.

Draco growled low in his throat, rolling his eyes. "Weasley…" A warning. Right there, at the edge of his tone. But something pleading as well. She could read something in his eyes, in the way he stood. His fingers clenched so hard and his jaw set tight. So near from breaking.

Ginny shook her head. "You don't scare me."

"Weasley, just leave me in peace!" boomed Draco, surprising her enough to make her jump. He was trembling. "Isn't it enough that he's dead? It has to be you rubbing it in my face. Shouldn't you be celebrating the end of the war? Shouldn't you be with the others, pointing at me for being a coward? For being a Malfoy? A death eater? Or are you enjoying watching me suffer?"

She sighed, slumping against the wall next to him. She caught a strand of her hair and began tugging on the tips, giving in to the nervous habit she'd developed that year. What could she say? She shut her eyes and let go of her pride, admitting something she'd rather have kept for herself."I followed my instinct and found you, Malfoy. As I always do."

Ginny felt her throat tighten and her eyes sting. She lowered her head, trying to get her emotions under control. "And to be honest, I think I've fought enough for today. I'm tired. I can't…won't…"

She felt him move next to her, strong fingers sliding beneath her chin and tilting her head back. He rubbed his thumb against her cheek.

Ginny looked into his eyes, barely allowing herself to breath. She felt as if she were standing at the edge of a cliff, about to jump. Her heart was beating faster than ever.

Emotions she didn't dare name flickered through Draco's eyes. He frowned a little, raising his other hand and brushing her hair away from her forehead. His thumb pressed against her lips. She could feel his breath against her cheek.

"Ginevra…" The sound of his voice made her toes curl.

Her heart ached. Ached for what? She did not know. Something to fill the void, to sooth the pain. She raised her hands, pressing her palms against his chest. She bunched the material of his outer robes in her fists, trying to express her need without words.

She hoped he would see. Hoped he would understand.

She literally felt his countenance change as something in him snapped. His eyes cleared and she nearly gasped at the raw emotion she saw in them. Emotions she never dared imagine existed in a Malfoy.

His fingers curled in fine hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her against him. Draco's lips brushed against hers so softly she could have cried. They were warm, moving against hers with a tenderness she'd never known.

And she felt heartbreakingly complete. But she wanted more.

He broke the kiss when she pushed his robes open. Disappointment swelled in her chest. She opened her eyes. She felt him begin to pull away. Instinctively, she reached out and touched his cheek with the tips of her finders, making him freeze. The look in his eyes made her heart stop.

She didn't see the disgust and rejection she expected. It was worst. There was hunger. Raw unabashed desire. Longing. Warmth. The kind of warmth she could drown in, that made heat pool in her chest and between her thighs.

Her fingers curled around his tie and she tugged him against her, kissing him. Draco pressed her against the wall, his large hands stroking her hips, his fingers then brushing the underside of her breasts. Ginny moaned when he bit her lower lip. His hands were everywhere, caressing her thighs, her face, her stomach, tugging her robes off. She barely realized she was unrestrained as him till he gasped pressing into her with her hand trapped between them.

His hands slid over her ass. The next moment, he had picked her up, pressed her against the wall. She'd wrapped her legs around his waist, nearly tore his shirt open in her haste to press hungry kisses along his collarbone.

His skin felt so soft. So warm. It tasted of sweat and blood, but right then, she felt she would never get enough. She gripped his shoulders tightly when his fingers slid over places that made her arch her back and groan softly.

A soft coughing sound made them both freeze.

Ginny opened her eyes, all the warmth suddenly turned to dread. Hermione was standing in the doorway with an expression on her face that Ginny wouldn't dare define.

Draco slowly allowed her to stand again, releasing her with obvious reluctance. She blushed when he pulled her tattered school blouse back over her shoulders, taking the time to button it himself.

His fingers lingered over her skin at each button. He had the feeling he was stalling for time. Allowing himself one last moment.

Ginny looked up at him. He smiled a bit. A timid smile. A sad smile. A smile that said "It'll be okay now." And she understood he was steeling himself for the end of whatever they had shared.

He slowly put his shirt back on, shielding her while she rightened her skirt. Her eyes lingered over his already faint dark mark. She pulled her robes back on.

When she looked back at him, his expression had closed off and he was back to his usual arrogant self.

"Go."

Though said gently, the word almost caused her physical pain. Ginny bit her lip and left, grabbing Hermione's arm as she swept out of the building. The brunette stumbled behind her for a few moments and then sighed, digging her heels in and forcing Ginny to slow down.

"Don't start preaching," muttered Ginny, "I don't think I could take it. Harry and I are not together. He just kisses me. He comes around, saves the day and just kisses me. And Draco—just this once—"

Hermione silenced her by sharply grabbing her shoulder, making her stop. Ginny remained silent. She realized that she didn't feel guilt and felt even worst.

"Draco what?"

Ginny felt throat tighten. Her answer was no more than a whisper. "He made my heart beat even though I felt dead inside."

Hermione smiled and held her arms out. Ginny didn't waste any time and threw herself in her embrace, finally allowing herself to cry. "Then I promise I won't ever tell anyone."


End file.
